‘Looks infected. Think you’ll lose your hand?’
‘S’not infected. Just slow healing, that’s all. Look here, boy, a storm’s coming up. I got to put my wares in my cart and haul off before it hits. Now, you going to make me an offer for that wolf? He’ll make you a fine fighter.’
‘He might make bear bait, but not much more than that. I’ll give you, oh, six coppers.’ I had a grand total of seven.
‘Coppers? Boy, we’re talking silvers here, at least. Look, he’s a fine animal. Feed him up a bit, he’ll get bigger and meaner. I could get six coppers for his hide alone, right now.’
‘Then you’d best do it, before he gets any mangier. And before he decides to take your other hand off.’ I leaned closer to the cage, pushing as I did so, and the wolf cowered more deeply. ‘Looks sick to me. My master would be furious with me, if I brought him in and the dogs got sick from killing him.’ I glanced up at the sky. ‘Storm is coming. I’d better be off.’
‘One silver, boy. And that’s giving him to you.’
At that moment the jay succeeded in pulling the pin. The cage door swung open and he hopped to the door’s edge. I casually stepped between the man and the cage. Behind me, I heard the jays hop out to the top of the pigeons’ cage. Door’s open I pointed out to the crow. I heard him rattle his pathetic feathers. I caught up the pouch at my belt, hefted it thoughtfully. ‘A silver? I don’t have a silver. But it’s no matter, really. I just realized I’ve no way to cart him home with me. Best I don’t buy him.’
Behind me, the jays took flight. The man blazed out a curse and lunged past me toward the cage. I managed to get entangled with him so that we both fell. The crow had made it as far as the cage door. I shook myself clear of the merchant and jumped to my feet, jarring the cage to spook the bird out into the free air. He beat his wings laboriously, but they carried him to the roof of a nearby inn. As the merchant lumbered to his feet, the crow opened his threadbare wings and cawed derisively.
‘There’s a whole cage full of my wares gone!’ he began accusingly, but I caught up my cloak and pointed to a tear in it. ‘My master’s going to be angry with this!’ I exclaimed, and matched him glare for glare.
He glanced up at the crow. The bird had huffed its feathers against the storm and sidled into the shelter of a chimney. He’d never catch that bird again. Behind me, the wolf whined suddenly.
‘Nine coppers!’ the merchant offered suddenly, desperately. He’d sold nothing that day, I’d wager.
‘I told you, I’ve no way to take him home!’ I countered. I tugged up my hood, glanced at the sky. ‘Storm’s here,’ I announced as the thick wet flakes began to fall. This would be nasty weather, too warm to freeze, too cold to melt. By daylight, the streets would be shining with ice. I turned to go.
‘Give me your six damned coppers then!’ the merchant bellowed in frustration.
I fumbled them out hesitatingly. ‘And will you cart him to where I live?’ I asked as he snatched them out of my hand.
‘Carry him yourself, boy. You’ve robbed me and you know it.’
With that he seized up his cage of doves and pigeons and heaved it into the cart. The empty crow’s cage followed. He ignored my angry remonstrance as he climbed up on the seat and shook the pony’s reins. The old beast dragged the creaking cart off, into the thickening snow and dusk. The market around us was abandoned. The only traffic now was folk hurrying home through the storm, collars and cloaks tight against the wet wind and blowing snow.
‘Now what am I to do with you?’ I asked the wolf.
Let me out. Free me.
I can’t. Not safe. If I turned a wolf loose here in the heart of town, he’d never find his way to the woods alive. There were too many dogs that would pack up to bring him down, too many men who would shoot him for his hide. Or for being a wolf. I bent toward the cage, intending to heft it and see how heavy it was. He lunged at me, teeth bared.
Get back! I was instantly angry. It was contagious.
I’ll kill you. You’re the same as he was, a man. You’d keep me in this cage, would you? I’ll kill you, I’ll rip your belly out and tussle with your guts.
You’ll get BACK! I pushed at him, hard, and he cowered away again. He snarled and whined his confusion at what I had done, but he shrank away from me into the corner of his cage. I seized the cage, lifted it. It was heavy, and the frantic shifting of his weight didn’t make it any easier. But I could carry it. Not very far, and not for long. But if I took it in stages, I could get him out of the town. Full grown, he’d probably weigh as much as I did. But he was skinny, and young. Younger than I had guessed at first glance.
I heaved the cage up, held it against my chest. If he went for me now, he could do some damage. But he only whined and cowered back from me into the far corner. It made it very awkward to carry him.
How did he catch you?
I hate you.
How did he catch you?
He remembered a den, and two brothers. A mother who brought him fish. And blood and smoke and his brothers and mother became smelly hides for the boot man. He was dragged out last and thrown into a cage that smelled like ferrets, and kept alive on carrion. And hate. Hate was what he had throve upon.
You were whelped late, if your mother was feeding you on the fish runs.
He sulked at me.
All the roads were uphill, and the snow was starting to stick. My worn boots slid on the icy cobbles, and my shoulders ached with the awkward burden of the cage. I feared I would start trembling. I had to stop frequently to rest. When I did, I firmly refused to think about what I was doing. I told myself that I would not bond with this wolf, or any other creature. I had promised myself. I was just going to feed this cub up and then turn him loose somewhere. Burrich need never know. I would not have to face his disgust. I hefted the cage up again. Who would have thought such a mangy little cub could be so heavy?
Not mangy. Indignant. Fleas. The cage is full of fleas.
So I wasn’t imagining that itching on my chest. Wonderful. I’d have to bathe again tonight, unless I wanted to share my bed with vermin for the rest of the winter.
I had reached the edge of Buckkeep Town. From here, there were only a scattering of houses, and the road would be steeper. Much steeper. Once again, I lowered the cage to the snowy ground. The cub huddled in it, small and miserable without anger and hate to sustain him. He was hungry. I made a decision.
I’m going to take you out. I’m going to carry you.
Nothing from him. He watched me steadily as I worked the catch on the cage and swung the door open. I had thought he would charge past me and vanish into the night and the falling snow. Instead he crouched where he was. I reached into the cage and seized him by the scruff to drag him out. In a flash he was on me, driving into my chest, jaws going wide for my throat. I got my arm up just in time to shove my forearm crossways into his jaws. I kept my grip on the scruff of his neck and pushed my arm hard into his mouth, deeper than he liked. His hind legs tore at my belly, but my jerkin was thick enough to divert most of the damage. In an
