Page 13 of Father of the Wolf

From that, Athair figured this ceremony would not be pleasant. Both Sandulfr and his mate stilled their voiced argument and seemed to communicate silently for several strained minutes. They were both tense and angry, and Bequlf looked greatly satisfied by their unspoken discussion.

Finally, Sandulfr said, “Very well.” And turned back to Athair, who could easily read the regret on Sandulfr’s face as he was forced to do as Bequlf wished.

Bequlf apparently had been dismissed with enough force to convince him to let them continue their discussion alone now that he was getting his way. Yet Bequlf seemed hesitant to leave, and Athair became aware of the other people standing around watching the drama unfold. By their postures and alertness, Athair figured they would mostly support Sandulfr if the disagreement became physical. Bequlf must have realized this as well, because after he glanced around the room, he motioned for his group to follow, and they swept from the building.

Sandulfr turned back to face Athair. “I am sorry that our internal problems will make this more difficult for you. But I can think of no other way for you to remain here without him using your presence to cause more trouble.”

“I understand.” Athair remembered Dàn’s warning. “As long as you agree, we are willing to continue.”

“Have you any knowledge of this ceremony?”

Maybe it had been among the records they’d lost long ago, but he had never heard of it before. “No, not at all. We will need as much information as you can give us.”

“The test will be symbolic of your trust in our people and will require you to ingest a ceremonial drink during a spirit walk. At which time, the spirits will judge if you are worthy of our clan’s trust.”

“How will they judge?” He was curious. He knew some of their people could talk with spirits, but none of those left in his clan could do so. Usually those who could took the position of religious advisor, shaman, priest, or sometimes, oracle.

“The spirits will answer a question you ask.” He paused for a moment, and then said, “You do not need to do this. I can give you time to think it over, while Soarsa and I arrange for a meal to be brought here. The ceremony will take place tonight.”

The leaders and the others left, leaving the three of them alone, except for one young male who stayed on the other side of the room playing billiards. He was obviously keeping an eye on them.

Athair sat down on one of the comfortable sofas and waited while Rath and Dàn settled in also. Rath radiated stress, but Dàn seemed unconcerned by the unexpected turn of events. But then it probably wasn’t unexpected to Dàn. They would need any information he would tell them to make this decision.

“Dàn, it’s time to be honest. What do you know?” Athair demanded.

Before Dàn spoke, Athair noticed that Dàn actually was tense. His hand trembled slightly as he nervously ran it through his blond hair. That wasn’t comforting. Dàn was worried about what was to come.

Dàn met his eyes and said, “The ceremony will not go well.” He sighed, and then shrugged slightly. “But we must go forward. As bad as it will be, it will be worth it in the end.”

“How will the ceremony go wrong?” Athair was used to drawing information from Dàn in parts. Dàn seemed to think that it was easier for them to deal with that way.

“The shaman will poison you. They plan to make your reaction to the toxins look like you failed the test of trust. He will use your failure to raise doubts against Sandulfr.”

“Then we should just go.” Rath growled. “They have nothing we need at that cost.”

“The poison will not kill any of us,” Dàn continued with an evasive smile. “And believe me, she will be worth the pain.”

“She?” Both Athair and Rath echoed. Since the ultimate purpose in rejoining the world was to find them mates, the word ‘she’ definitely caught their attention.

“Yes, she. Finally, we will all have hope,” he said enigmatically.

No matter how often they asked, Dàn would tell them no more about the woman. But he did say, “Athair, you must remember to run when the ceremony goes wrong.”

“I will not leave you.” How could Dàn think he would abandon them during a fight?

“We will distract and delay them only long enough for you to escape, and then we will follow.” Athair found it comforting to have Dàn’s knowledge to help guide them, but he also sensed that what Dàn didn’t tell them could have filled the wind.

The part Dàn worried about having withheld was the existence of a large void in his premonition. He knew from past experience that a void usually meant the missing knowledge would be most relevant to him. He rarely foresaw events that involved him in personal and often painful ways.

He wished he could have had more contact with seers who could help guide him. Too often he felt like he was fumbling around, making mistakes. It was overwhelming at times like this to see so much and have so many choices.

Dàn watched a tall, willowy woman enter the building and start toward them. She had long, silky, black hair that fell to her waist and dark, almond-shaped eyes. She had to be the oracle Sandulfr had promised.

Oddly, Dàn could not read her thoughts at all. Odd, and a bit disconcerting.

He stood and tried to remember his manners as she walked toward him. It was so rare that he had to start a conversation without knowing the person’s intentions that he actually stuttered.

“H-hello.”

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