The drums were beating softly yet insistently, announcing the gathering of the full council of the clan. Mika had refused Starr's offer of her home to make himself ready, knowing that she would be far happier if she never saw him or his wolves again.
In fact, at the last minute he had decided to not ready himself at all, to appear before the council just as he was, unwashed and ungroomed, so as to present an image of himself as a rough, tough warrior, to offset any and all doubts that might arise over his manliness.
He knew from years of watching his father prepare for meetings that such was not the norm, but Horns- buck would surely arrive looking his usual untidy self. The two of them would look as though cut from the same mold.
Feeling reassured, he examined himself in a pool of still water for any external evidence of change. Nothing appeared different except his manhood, which drooped sadly, huddling into itself as though knowing that it had failed and wished to hide; and, of course, the metal gaundet concealing the demonic monstrosity that had once been his hand and now tingled with three demon digits.
Mika condescended to retie his hair, which was coming loose from its braid and sagging about his ears. He knotted a thong of leather around the end of the braid and jerked it tight, wishing that it were the princess's neck.
He brushed bits of moss and dirt off the beautiful, blue cloak, admiring it once again, then straightened the soft, gray doeskin on his hips. His fingers lingering on the buttery softness; he wondered why he had never purchased such a garment before and had made do with hot, bulky, ugly, leather tunics for so many years.
Suddenly, lightning shot through his mind and he withdrew his hand as though burned, frightened by the emotions that had coursed through him. It must be the curse! Never before had he worried about clothes and appearances. He had always taken such things for granted. Now he was fussing over what he wore, like… like a woman!
Angrily, he pulled the tattered, old, gray, wolfskin cloak that had belonged to his father out of his shoulder pouch and exchanged it for the beautiful blue cape. He tried to ignore the fact that moths had been at it and it appeared slightly bald.
He settled the grinning skull on top of his head and crossed the paws over his chest, knotting them securely, feeling the all but hairless tail flop against the back of his calves as he stomped out of the forest, a terrible scowl on his face.
He would fight it! He wouldn't give in. He would fight the female curse every step of the way. He would find a red stone and reverse the process, and none would ever know that there had been a problem.
By the time Mika arrived, all of the chiefs had gathered and were seated in the high chiefs' dwelling, which also served as a council house. It was quite large, with many rooms built around the central core, sizeable enough to accommodate a full assembly.
Trabec, the chief, sat before the fire in the place of honor. Oban, the head shaman and magic-user, from whom Mika hoped to obtain a new supply of herbs and potions, was there as well, grasping the carved staff of his profession.
Two score of lesser chiefs were also seated around the fire, representing each of the major families that comprised this clan.
As Mika entered, he noticed immediately that all of them-every last man-was dressed in his finest clothing, the softest and most carefully tanned skins worn only for ceremonies, then folded away with leaves of aromatic cedar until the next gathering.
Full wolfskin headdresses and cloaks sat atop those fortunate enough to possess them, tokens of the bravery and remembrances of wolves long gone to the spiritworld. Also worn were the pelts of wolves that had been their bond brothers or those of their ancestors.
Young members of the council, those too young for such badges of merit, wore only ears and single tails upon their helms which were given them on their initiation day by the elders. These less-privileged young men sat on the outskirts of the farthest circle.
Mika was startled to see Hornsbuck seated next to Trabec. It was not his presence that surprised him, but rather his appearance.
For a moment, Mika nearly mistook him for someone else, for Hornsbuck was scrubbed so clean that Mika was certain he would squeak if touched. Horns- buck's skin fairly glowed with a rosy sheen. His hair gleamed white-blond in the firelight and was neady combed and braided, not a single strand out of place. Even the monstrous brush that was his beard and mustache had been meticulously trimmed and groomed.
He wore a magnificent tunic of roanskin, the fur still on, thickly pelted, a rich, dark shade of auburn. He wore a belt of hammered silver around his waist, inlaid with turquoise and gold. A necklet fashioned of massive silver links hung from his thick neck, and at its end, in the very center of his chest, hung a huge, fist-sized chunk of unworked turquoise.
On his feet were boots that rose to his knees. The soles were made of thick, bison leather, but the sides were cut from the same pelt as the tunic. They, too, were ornamented, little turquoise beads and tiny silver bells dangled from the fringe that edged the top of the boots.
His head was too broad to fit into any wolfskull, but he had thrown a cloak made of three wolf pelts across his shoulders. RedTail sat at his side, and even he wore a collar of fingers, human and otherwise, his own grisly tokens of past victories. Lotus Blossom, being a woman, was absent, for women were not permitted to participate in such weighty matters as council meetings.
Mika paused in the doorway, feeling all eyes upon him, critical eyes that took in his dirty, ungroomed hair, his sweat-stained body, and his strangely colored garments.
He saw them stiffen and felt the disapproval and shock in their eyes, realizing that he had insulted them by appearing in such a condition. He started to withdraw, thinking that perhaps he might yet have time to bathe and groom himself properly, but it was not to be.
"Come, Mika, we have been waiting for you," said Trabec. "You are the last to arrive."
"Please pardon my appearance," said Mika, feeling the hostility rolling toward him in all but visible waves. "I do not own any other garments, having lost all in our recent ventures." That did not excuse his ungroomed state, but it was the best he could think of on such short notice.
The tension eased somewhat as the members of the council prepared themselves for the telling of the adventure. Unfortunately Starr, the woman with whom he had spent his time instead of making ready for the meeting was, by some nasty quirk of fate, moving among the council, pouring mulled mandrake wine into waiting mugs. She turned and shot Mika a look of pure disgust.
"Sit beside me," said Trabec, patting the ground to his right, forcing Oban to give way reluctantly. Mika did not wish to usurp the shaman's place or offend him in any way, as he would soon be asking for favors, but short of affronting the chief, there did not seem to be any way to avoid the invitation.
Mika and Tam squeezed into the narrow space, and Tam managed to sit on Oban's wolfs tail, causing her to yip as though she had been seriously injured. Oban lifted his wolf up and all but tossed her into the wolf belonging to the man seated on the other side of him, causing still further commotion.
Trabec ignored the furor. When the last of the snapping, growling, and muttering had faded away, he began to speak.
"We are gathered here tonight around the sacred council fire for the telling of the adventure of our brothers, Mika and Hornsbuck, born of the Far Fringe wolf clan, full brothers of the Phantom Forest wolf clan. This is their story. I will allow them to speak."
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" howled each member of the council, thumping their cups on the ground. All eyes turned to Mika and Hornsbuck.
Hornsbuck cleared his throat. Everyone stared at him expectantly.
"I was but second in command," said Hornsbuck. "Mika was in charge of the expedition. It would be improper for me to speak first. But here is my contribution to the clan." He took a pouch from inside his tunic and handed it to Trabec. The chief opened the pouch and poured out a handful of rings, necklets, and earpieces that Mika recognized as the booty taken from the Flannae aborigines.
Mika felt his heart sink within his breast at the outpouring of wealth and the collective gasp of breath. What on Oerth was he to do? He had not a single grushnik to contribute on his own behalf.
Hornsbuck fell silent, and all eyes turned to Mika. He sat staring at the ground, eyes and cheeks burning. The silence grew painful.
"Mika? We would hear your tale," urged Trabec. "How came you to be here among us, and what report you of your clan, many of whom are closely related to us?"
This was news to Mika, and his heart sank still further. He had dreaded telling his own clan what had happened on the mission to Eru-Tovar, and now it seemed that he would have to tell the terrible news twice.
Mika knew that his quest had not failed through any fault of his own. But now, with everyone looking at him expectandy, waiting for him to speak, he did not feel so confident that they would understand.
"Mika?" prompted Trabec again.
And with faltering voice, Mika told of the adventure that had begun so confidently with himself in charge of two score Wolf Nomads and ended with the death of all except himself and Hornsbuck.
Gasps of shock and grunts of pain echoed around him as he recited the names of those who had ridden with him and not returned-names obviously related to those around him.
"We were doomed from the start…" said Mika as he continued the awful tale.
Whispers of anger buzzed around him like maddened wasps, slowly diminishing as he spoke of the treachery and witchcraft that had stalked them from the start and of the mysterious, sleeping beauty who was the Princess Julia. The room was silent as he told of the final battle with the demigod of evil, Iuz, and the subsequent encounter with the demon, leaving out all mention of the curse.
The mutterings turned to startled exclamations as he spoke of the magic gem which turned the princess into a wolf. Mika felt Starr's eyes on him. He risked a glance, only to find her staring at him with lips compressed into a thin, tight line, her hands on her hips, and angry realization in her eyes.
Mika could not help but notice that the shaman started back at the mention of the demon. "Oban, do you know of this demon?" he asked.
The shaman looked away.
"Tell us what you know, please!" Mika begged.
The shaman turned his head back toward Mika. His eyes glittered brightly as though he were feverish, and his thin lips curved in an unpleasant smile.
"I do not know him, but I know of him," he said. "Few make his acquaintance and live. He is all that is evil in the world, all that is foul and corrupt, all that is wicked on Oerth and… his name is Maelfesh!"
At the mention of the name there was a gasp, and those gathered in the building huddled together, pulling away, putting distance between themselves and Mika.
Mika felt as though his soul had been turned to ice. Maelfesh! The most evil and demonic of all demons. He had not even suspected that it was Maelfesh. Why would such a high-level demon bother with a lowly human? It just didn't make sense! Why! Why! Why! Feeling more lost than ever before, squeezed in the grip of something beyond his comprehension or capabilities, Mika was ready to give up. Hornsbuck read the surrender in his eyes.
"All the more reason to go on!" boomed the large nomad's voice.
Mika looked up and saw Hornsbuck lighting his pipe casually with a steady hand.
"You dare not do that, brother," said Trabec.
"It would be suicide." He expressed Mika's feelings exacdy.
"We are Wolf Nomads, not mouse-tailed cowards," said Hornsbuck. "Wolf Nomads laugh in the face of death. We tempt fate to the limits, and welcome danger with open arms. We do not run from demons!"
Why not just this once? thought Mika, groaning inwardly. That damned code of the Wolf Nomads was going to get him killed yet. But once the code was invoked, there was no going back-certainly not after it was invoked in front of an entire clan council. Now Mika was committed to complete the journey to its all but inevitable conclusion.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" howled the council, each of them raising their horn mugs and toasting the courage of their brothers.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" screamed Mika, but no one save the shaman heard him.
"What is to become of the princess?" asked Trabec in a somber tone.
"I am taking her to Exag and returning her to her father," said Mika, glad to discuss something other than the death of his men.
"I had hoped to refill my potions and healing ungents and consult with your shaman on a matter of importance before we set out to finish our mission," said Mika. "Only this has prevented us from making directly for Exag."
Trabec looked at Mika without speaking for long heartbeats, his dark eyes hard as flint. Finally, he spoke.
"I am not sure you should be allowed to continue," Trabec said sternly. "I am uncertain that you deserve the honor. Enor, your chief and my blood relative, would have strong words to say. In his absence, I must speak for him. How many more men will you kill in the doing? We would not care to lose our brother, Hornsbuck. Nor would we be able to dissuade him from what he considers to be a mission of honor and I consider to be a mission of death."
A cold chill flowed over Mika, and it seemed that he could already feel the pain starting in his next to last finger. It had never occurred to him that he might not be allowed to finish the mission, to take the princess to Exag, find her father, and appease the demon. If that were to happen, he would be well and truly cursed! If the demon didn't kill him outright, the curse would finish him off for sure.
"No!" he boomed in a desperate tone. "I do not ask for any men to accompany me. I will accomplish the mission on my own. No one will be at risk but myself. I beg you to allow me to complete this task!"
"You hardly seem to be the proper choice for such an important mission," Oban said nastily. "The princess herself dislikes you so much that even you admit that she has tried to kill you.
"I say that you cannot return a princess to her father in the form of a wolf," Oban continued. "Important diplomatic relations could be established that would work to our benefit if we changed her back to human form.
"Meanwhile we must not allow Mika to 9"metf- where near this girl, uh, wolf, again," said Qha. "Send someone else who can do the job correctly. I myself would be willing to volunteer under the circumstances."
I bet you would, you sanctimonious old frog, thought Mika. I wonder what else you'd volunteer to do while you were at it.
"I agree with Oban," said the shaman's assistant, a whey-faced, hollow-chested, scrawny fellow who bore a strong family resemblance to the shaman. "I think Mika's done enough harm."
There was a murmur of agreement around the circle as the various chiefs conferred. Mika could feel the tide swinging solidly against him. He jumped to his feet and opened his mouth to speak, desperate to try to explain what had happened, to tell them that there had been nothing else he could have done.
"I didn't-I couldn't-I, uh, tried, uh…" he stammered. But the voices only muttered louder now, expressions growing blacker. With a sinking heart, Mika looked into eyes that were dark with grief and anger.
Then, just as it seemed that all was lost, a single voice roared out. "Wait!" it said with such force that it drowned out the rising clamor of voices, causing them to trail away into silence.
"Although it is true that our brother has a… a somewhat unique manner of doing things at times," said Hornsbuck, still seated, "I cannot fault him for anything that happened. And neither can any of you since, may I remind you, none of you were there to say otherwise."
"But…" stammered Oban. "But so many were lost and…"
"Through no fault of Mika's," interrupted Hornsbuck. "I was there, and I know. We did the best we could, and Mika deserves the opportunity to finish the mission. We have discussed the matter between ourselves, and I, for one, feel that he is capable of finishing it rightly. I say that you should give him the chance."
So saying, Hornsbuck detached a wolf tail from the end of his braid and tossed it into the center of the circle, to the right of the fire at Mika's feet. "I say yea." He looked around the circle, gazing at each and every man in turn.
There was an undercurrent of muttering and then Oban, flushed of face, dark eyes glittering, scuttled to his feet and faced Mika. He ripped the single wolf tail from his own thin braid and cast it down to the ground, to the left of the fire at Mika's feet.
"I say nay," he said in a cold voice.
"I say nay, also," echoed his assistant, who threw his own tiny tail down beside Oban's.
There was a moment of silence; no man was willing to make the next move.
"I say yea," said a soft, calm voice, and Trabec slowly detached his own full tail and placed it deliberately beside Hornsbuck's. There was a sharp, gasped intake of air and after that, there was no question of the final outcome. When the tails were counted, all but two had voted in Mika's favor.
"Where is this fabled gemstone?" asked Oban pointedly when the commotion had died down. "I would see it."
"Uh, the princess has it," said Mika.
"What! How can a wolf carry a gemstone?" asked Oban. "Why do you permit it? It could easily be lost!"
"It… it was sort of an accident," said Mika. "She seized it this afternoon, and I was unable to retrieve it. That is why I appeared before you in such an unkempt state," he added in a moment of brilliance. "I have been trying to get it back all afternoon."
"You must retrieve it immediately!" directed Oban.
"I shall," promised Mika, wondering how on Oerth he would manage to get the gem away from the princess.