Brother Of The Winter Wolves
by CG

      The child wailed in the hazy chill of the morning. Born on the feast of Harvest, he was the result of a union between Frost Giant and human. The Legionnaire who held him could scarce stand to look on his massive features as he screamed his rage and fear to the world.
      The woman Elan, screamed and fought the two men at arms that dragged her to the mouth of the cave. Just inside the floor sloped steeply down into the darkness.
      The child struggled harder in the Legionnaire's grip, very nearly getting free. He paused only once to stare at the scaled bracelet on his captor's arm before renewing his howling cry for his mother.
      The Legionnaire watched as his sister, Elan, was pushed screaming into the cave, sliding down a slope no human could climb, as the priests prayed for her soul. He looked again at the babe. His sister should have done the honorable thing and killed the child. The clerics had ways......
      Instead, she chose to keep this abomination, who's over large head and massive hands and shoulders told only too clearly of his shameful parentage. At only six moons he was as strong as a child of three summers.
      "Abomination",he whispered, as a tear slid down his weathered face for the sister he would never see again.
      They turned from the lair of the Dracolich and rode far into the high reaches of the northern forests where the dire wolves roamed. They arrived at a clearing and dismounted. One of the priests took a small cask from his saddlebag. "Bring the child" ,he intoned.
      "This is the will of Phaet", the Legionnaire thought to himself. The tightness in his chest increased as he looked at the child, knowing the fate that awaited him. Silently, he held the squirming infant as the priest poured some of the ox blood on the baby. It ran over onto his hands and his nerve nearly gave out.
      "Place the abomination on the ground there", the priest intoned pointing to the base of a giant oak. He did as he was told and laid the child on the ground. The priest poured the rest of the brood on the ground around the tree. Cold and naked, the child wailed again for his mother.
      They mounted again, riding away as the air filled with the howls of a hunting pack. The Legionnaire closed his eyes, daring to pray to any god who would listen, for the child's quick end.
      
      Nixel looked again into the scrying pool he had created in the center of the room. Through the bracelets locked about his wrists kept him from physically leaving his prison, he had learned to get his spirit past his brother, Phaet's, wards centuries ago.
      When he heard the call fro mercy, he stirred the waters to see what would cause on of his brother's followers to call for the aid of a different god. Now, what he saw made him tremble with anger. The followers of his supposedly righteous brother were leaving an innocent child to wait for the wolves. He shook his dark head. "And to think,"he muttered "they dare to call ME evil.
      Concentrating, he sent his spirit out in the form of a raven to seek his faithful servant, Qarin, of the Silverhair Clan. His house would not be far from those woods. Qarin was a good choice. He served willingly, asking naught for himself in return. Sadly, Nixel saw, he would always be childless. This would remedy both problems.
      
      
      As the raven searched, Nixel reached farther, into the dark cold mind of the only one of his pets who had not been turned to stone. Ar-Anthor raised his head sleepily, wakened from his deep sleep by a feather light touch stroking his mind.
      "Wake, my faithful Ar-Anthor." Nixel's voice sounded gently in the ancient dracolich's mind. Ar-Anthor hummed with pleasure at hearing his master's voice after so long. He looked about in confusion, unable to see or smell him.
      "There is a woman I wish you to watch over," he said. "She is one of my children and I wish her protected from harm." Nixel sent the picture of Elan kneeling at the entrance of the lair. The dracolich began unwinding and undulated toward the mouth of the lair.
      Elan slid down the steep slope, landing hard among the bones of others condemned by Phaet's Law or by foolish confidence. The smell of the dracolich was unmistakable, as was the whisper of scale on stone she heard approaching behind her.
      She rose to her knees, arms up stretched, and prayed, "Lord Nixel, Father of Creation, hear my prayer. Take my son into your care. Protect him now as I cannot." As the tears coursed down her cheeks she felt a presence fill her mind. A voice, deep and gentle, said "Worry not, my daughter: Sleep." Elan relaxed and feel into the land of dreams. She did not feel the gentle pressure of the massive jaws that carried her tenderly to place her on a throne of gold. Nor did she feel the icy sting as the dracolich breathed upon her, encasing her in a block of ice. She slept, untroubled by dreams.
      
      
      Qarin sat with his knees drawn up, his head resting on his crossed arms. The feel of the sun on his back and the gentle murmur of the stream nearly lulling him to sleep.
      Since his brother, Balan, had left six months ago, Qarin had not rested much. He frequently reached out to touch minds with his younger brother and reassure himself that he was well.
      The hoarse cry of the raven as it settled into the tree behind him brought Qarin quickly to the present. As he turned to face the intruder, he felt his mind fill with the presence of his God. Qarin quickly prostrated himself.
      "Rise, my faithful follower," the voice said. Qarin rose to a kneeling position but dared not raise his eyes. "To the north, in the forest of the winter wolves, there is a child in danger. I wish you to aid him. Raise him as you would your own son and teach him my ways
      "As you command, Lord", Qarin humbly replied. He collected his staff and cloak from the grass beside him and strode north. Few could match the tall ranger's stride and in a short time he arrived at the forest. He heard the child's cries and followed them to the tree. However, his were not the only ears to track the child. Drawn by the helpless cries as much as by the smell of blood, a small foraging band of wolves also arrived where the child lay.
      Qarin stood over the child and readied his staff as the first wolf charged. He brought the staff down solidly, knocking the wolf senseless. The second wolf leaped for the tall Elf's throat but was knocked aside. The two remaining wolves circled, darting in and out, worrying and nipping at Qarin. Distracted, he did not see the first wolf rise and shake it's head. It slipped in behind and grabbed the baby by the arm.
      The boy screamed in pain. Qarin spun and dealt the unlucky wolf a crushing blow to the skull. Seeing it's chance, one of the circling pair lunged forward, tearing at Qarin's thigh. Qarin inhaled sharply through his clenched teeth and brought the staff forcefully across the wolf's back, breaking the spine. The other wolves howled as they regrouped and from the dark forest, more howls answered.
      
      
      Qarin seized the opportunity and grabbed up the sobbing, blood encrusted boy. He fled with all speed into the forest, disappearing as only the Elves can. When he was sure they had escaped, he paused to rest. His wound pained him, and the loss of blood made him unsteady.
      The boy whimpered and Qarin looked at him. This was not a child as he first thought, but a mere babe. He wondered at the sheer size of the infant, easily identifying the giant side of his linage. Yet the boys blue, intelligent gaze, even through the pain, showed a second line as well. "Human, perhaps," Qarin thought.
      He renders what aid he can, easing the child's pain and the baby falls asleep. Qarin smiled gently. He tore a piece from his cloak and bound the child's wound. Then, tearing another piece, he bound the wound on his leg. He fashioned a sling from the rest of the cloak and placed the child in it.
      The pain in his own leg and the added weight of the child slowed Qarin's gait. It was past nightfall when he finally came in sight of the hold.
      Qarin's sister, Lilith, had been anxiously watching from the gates of the hold. Qarin was never this late. A movement at the edge of the woods caught her eye. There he was. She started to relax, then noticed his halting gait. She rushed across the field to meet him. Her healer's eye took note of the pain in his eye and his clammy skin. She took his arm and peered into the bundle he carried.
      "A child?" she thought amazed. She said nothing, but took the child and pulling her brother's arm around her shoulders, helped him back to the hold.
      Once inside their quarters, she lay the child on the bed as Qarin sank heavily into a chair. "You have not been playing well with others," she said lightly as she knelt and unbound the wound. Fresh blood welled up as she removed the blood soaked material. She drew her breath sharply between her teeth. Qarin winced at her touch but said nothing. He looked to the bed where the child lay. "The babe," he began.
      Lilith prayed silently and her hands began to glow. She laid them on her brother's wound and it glowed white, then disappeared, leaving only a pink mark which would fade in a day or two. Qarin placed his hand on his sister's shoulder. "The baby has been hurt as well."
      Lilith nodded and went to the bed where the bundle had begun to move.
      A soft whimpering came as she removed the tattered cloak, exposing the naked, bloody child. Lilith shook her head. "Now for you, Little One." Once more she prayed and once more her hands glowed, but not so brightly. She laid her hands on the boy's arm and the heeling spread down the gash on his arm to the sizable tear on the back of his hand. It glowed only briefly. As the glow faded, only a scar shaped like the head of a howling wolf remained.
      Lilith went to the fire and poured warm water into a basin. She carried the basin to where the child lay and began to bathe him. As she cleaned his face, she peered closely and recognized the child's heritage. "Brother," she began, raising one eyebrow. "What stray have you brought home this time?"
      Qarin grinned and related the tale as he ate. Lilith finished bathing the baby and wrapped him in a warm blanket. She nodded as he finished and looked into the baby's eyes. "What shall we call you, Little One?" she asked the baby softly. He only grasped her finger tightly, smiled, and kicked happily. Lilith gently rubbed her thumb across the scar on the back of his hand and smiled. "I will call you Maa Goa," she said. "It is the Jari name for wolf." The baby cooed and gurgled happily. Qarin smiled and watched his sister fuss over the foundling. "Mago," he thought. "May Lord Nixel bless the name and the bearer."
      
      
      Mago grew quickly, soon passing the older children in both size and strength. He kept his gentle nature, however, and often kept watch on the younger children while the adults tended to various chores. Wish Lilith and Qarin to watch over him, he soon grew to be a kind young man.
      He often traveled with Qarin to Novdom and to the halfling shire of Nwic, as both were under the protection of the Silverhair Clan. On these trips, Qarin had Mago practice his hunting and foraging skills. "Never over hunt or over forage and area, Mago," Qarin told him often. "Take only what you need and clean up after your kill. Remember that more than you must walk this land."
      The only dark spot in his childhood was Suvari, the youngest of the clan. She was jealous of Mago and Qarin's relationship and took every opportunity to strike out at him either physically or with pranks. Lilith had to discipline Suvari many times, but in the end, nothing worked.
      On the day the new waterwheel was to be delivered to the mill, the clan gathered tools and food into a cart and they started off. Lilith and Suvari rode in the cart while Qarin walked ahead a little, watching for any signs of trouble. Mago ran back and forth between the cart and Qarin talking excitedly.
      They soon reached the shire and, after greeting everyone, they began readying the old wheel to be removed so the new one could be put into place. Unfortunately, every time Mago tried to help, he made matters worse. First he knocked the millsmith from his ladder, then he tripped over some buckets and knocked several bags of flour into the stream. "Oaf," snickered Suvari. "Why don't you go wait in the wagon if you can do that much without breaking it".
      Mago fled from the building and sad behind the mill, hidden by some bushes. He cried softly in anger at Suvari and in frustration at his own clumsiness. Qarin had seen him leave after talking to Suvari and followed him quietly. He stood for a moment watching the boy, then gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
      "Mago, why are you hiding?" The tall ranger asked.
      Mago sniffed and looked up at Qarin with tears in his eyes. "I just want to help," he explained pitifully.
      Qarin smiled gently. "I can think of just the job for you, Mago." Qarin pulled Mago to his feet and led him to the field on the west side of the shire. The bull that normally occupied the field had been safely penned up and the halfling and elven children were playing or talking in groups.
      "Why don't you teach them to play 'Rabbit and Fox'?" Qarin whispered to Mago with a smile. Qarin called the children to him and he and Mago explained the rules. They caught on quickly and were soon having a great time.
      Since Mago was not as coordinated as the other children, he was often 'It'. After a time, though, he went to set beneath a try and rest. Suddenly, he felt at thump on the top of his head and an apple fell into his lap. Mago rubbed his head and ate the apple. A second apple thumped him on the head and this time he heard a giggle. He looked up into the tree and grinning back at him was the smallest halfling Mago had ever seen.
      Using only her hands, she came down the tree as quick as a squirrel. Mago tried not to stare at her too thin, twisted legs. She settled herself beside him and peered into his face intently.
      "Ye be a biggin' aincha?" she asked.
      Mago looked at her curiously. Jeri was not his best language, but this little one's accent was so foreign to him, he could not make any sense of what she said. Instead of simply staring blankly at her, he smiled, patted himself on the chest and said, "Me Mago."
      
      "Ohhhhh, nae the brightest glower in tha basket now, ere ye?" she asked chuckling.. In common however she said, "We be Amalon." Mago smiled and patted Amalon on the head. She pulled to one side and said in an angry voice, "Enough, ye great beastie!" She drew a deep breath and said in common again, "Mago, stop. We doona like bein' petted and patted like a wee pet." Mago hung his head. "Mago sorry", he said apologetically. Amalon smiled to see such a large being so easily moved. "Tis well, friend Mago. Worra yerself not."
      Mago cocked his shaggy head and looked at Amalon curiously. "Why Little Amalon talk so funny?" he asked. Amalon doubled up with laughter. In Jeri she said, "Ahh tis a case o' the pot acallin' the kettle black, it tis." Mago looked at her and smiled vacantly. Amalon wiped her eyes and said in common, "We come from the high mountains to the northeast of here. Where we come from, allus speaks this way."
      Amalon settled back against the tree and began telling Mago about what her life had been like in her home shire. She spoke sadly of her friends and the plague that had killed so many and left her own legs twisted to the point that she could barely walk. She sat for a long moment staring into the past. She blinked, sighed, and looked up at Mago, who was smiling at her.
      'Now doncha be laughin' at us," she warned him, angrily clenching her small fists. Mago looked hurt. "Mago's not laughing at you. Mago knows what it is like to be different." The large boy smiled again. "Mago will be your friend." He waved his hand toward the other children. "These all be your friends too. All will be Little Amalon's friends." Amalon smiled and hugged as much of Mago as she could get her arms around. "Tis greatful we are to ye, Mago," the tiny halfling said.
      A scream brought their attention to the field where the children were scattering. The bull that was kept at the far end of the field had broken through the fence. Mago stood and scanned the area. He saw Suvari running for some trees with the bull close behind her. Mago ran to help his foster sister as she turned and slashed the bull with her thin, nimble blade. It did little more than enrage the bull farther.
      "Suvari," Mago called. As she turned to look, she tripped and fell. The bull swept past and turned for another charge. Mago reached Suvari and stood between her and the bull. As it reached him, Mago dodged to one side and brought his fist down hard between the bulls eyes. It dropped hard to the ground, stunned. Mago turned and glanced at Suvari. She had a few scratches but otherwise would be fine.
      Qarin and the farmer, Dagul, came running up only moments later. Qarin glanced at Mago and Suvari then looked at the bull and raised one eyebrow in question. Before he could speak, Dagul shouted, "Look what ya did to my bull! You've killed him!" Dagul fell to his knees beside the massive beast and moaned miserably.
      "Calm yourself, Dagul," Qarin said. I will have Lilith heal and calm him so you can get him back into his pen." Qarin called to Mago and Suvari. "It's time we were going to the inn for the night," he said. Mago turned and offered his hand to Suvari to help her to her feet. She looked at it for a long moment, shrugged, and let Mago help her up. Suvari blushed, "Thanks Mago." Mago grinned and hugged her. "It's ok." They turned and followed Qarin back to the inn.
      
      
      A few months later, Qarin had Mago out identifying edible plants. Mago was never quite sure which were safe and which were not, so he regularly poisoned himself. Qarin was showing him the difference in two types of mushroom when he suddenly grabbed his head and fell to his knees moaning.
      
      "Are you alright, Qarin?" Mago asked worriedly. The boy tried to help Qarin to his feet, but Qarin pushed him roughly away. "Qarin?" Mago's voice trembled. Qarin still didn't answer. He only cried out in anguish. Fearfully, Mago ran back to the hold to get Lilith.
      "Lilith, Lilith, " he called out as he ran. Lilith had been sorting herbs into various vials, and when Mago burst through the door, several were knocked over. Mago grabbed Lilith by the arm and tried to pull her toward the door. He was nearly hysterical and didn't make any sense. She took him firmly by the shoulders and whispered a calm spell.
      "Shhhhh, Mago," she said softly. "Calm down and tell me what is wrong." Mago burst into tears. "Qarin is hurt. I asked him what was wrong, but he just pushed me away and cried."
      "Show me where he is," she said as she picked up one of her potions and took Mago's hand. Mago set off at a lope, nearly dragging Lilith along behind him. "Mago, wait," she said. The boy came to a reluctant halt, dancing anxiously from one foot to the other. Lilith cast a levitation spell on herself so Mago could tow her more easily. When they found Qarin, he was much as he had been when Mago had left him.
      Mago stopped uneasily. It made him nervous to see Qarin so upset. "Qarin," Lilith said softly, touching her brother's shoulder. Qarin grabbed his sister and held her tight. "Balan," he whispered. Lilith knelt before her brother and looked into his tortured eyes. "What's wrong, Qarin? What about Balan?"
      "He's dead," Qarin choked.
      "How can you know this? Our brother left years ago," she said.
      Qarin drew in a deep breath and tried to steady himself. "We kept in touch mentally. He was exploring the northern wastelands and said he found a scroll. He was on his way home and........................." Qarin began to sob once more.
      Gently, Lilith hugged her brother and drew a potion from her pocket. "Here," she said. "Drink this. It will ease the pain in your head some." Qarin shook his head. "No. What if I am wrong?" His voice took on a desperate edge. "What if he tries to reach me again? What if................" Qarin closed his eyes. The pain he had felt come only when a contact had been severed violently: as in death.
      Qarin took the bottle Lilith gave him and quickly drained the contents. Lilith sat beneath the tree and pulled Qarin down to lay his head in her lap. She stroked his hair and sang softly as she had done when they were children and Qarin had been having night visions. Lilith quietly cast a levitation spell on Qarin as he relaxed and his breathing deepened. She stood and looked at Mago, placing a finger across her lips to warn him to silence.
      Lilith called Mago to her and explained the situation in a low voice. Mago was shaken deeply. Qarin had always seemed so strong. He knew of Balan from the stories Qarin had told Mago about when he and his brother were growing up. Mago knew the brothers had shared a special bond. He took Lilith's hand and they made their way back to the hold with Qarin in tow.
      
      
      The winter passed slowly. Mago watched Qarin closely as he sat staring into the fire, listlessly running his fingers over the runes he had carved into his staff. From his lessons, Mago knew they were prayers.
      Qarin barely ate now and this too troubled Mago. One morning, Mago brought Qarin his breakfast only to find him in the chair he had been in the night before. His face was pale and Mago was afraid he had gone beyond the veil. The boy dropped to his knees and began to cry. He didn't see Qarin raise his head or open his eyes.
      "What ails you, Mago?" Qarin asked softly.
      
      With a cry of joy, Mago seized Qarin about the waist and hugged him tightly. "I..... I....... thought you........... were........." Mago sobbed. Qarin chuckled politely and patted Mago's shaggy head. "No, Mago. Not just yet." Qarin looked at Mago. In spite of his innocent mind, Mago was 17 now and it was time for him to choose a career and start training to make his way in the world. "Mago," Qarin said as he gently pried Mago's arms from around him. "Get some sleep. We will be leaving in the morning."