Page 77 of Father of the Wolf

Hope listened shamelessly, but Granny said little on her end of the conversation. The call was short, and she hung up after only a minute.

“That was Barbara, from next door. She is at the hospital with Colleen. The poor girl broke her arm. Barb called to let me know that Samantha is riding over to spend the day here.”

“This isn’t the best day for you to babysit.”

“No, it’s not. But you know Sam won’t be any trouble. She can stay here when we go to the park.”

“When will she get here?”

“Any minute now.”

* * *

Samantha LaBarron galloped through the woods on her pony, Thunder. She leaned low over his back to encourage him to go faster. Guilt didn’t slow her at all, even though she had promised to ride directly to their neighbor’s house. Instead, she was running Thunder on what she privately called their race track, which was actually just a narrow trail that looped around the wooded hill between the two homes.

Today, she and Colleen had been planning to ride together, but Colleen and their mom were on their way to the hospital instead.

Really, it was Thunder’s fault. With his typical sense of humor, he had started a game of tag when he should have come to her whistle. Colleen already had her young mare, Sundance, saddled and was warming her up in the paddock. Sunny got excited by Thunder’s game and threw Colleen off with a couple of bunny hops.

Sam patted Thunder’s shoulder with a couple of hard slaps in forgiveness for his earlier crimes.

Colleen broke her arm in the fall, but she seemed more embarrassed by being thrown in such a silly way. Mom and Colleen left for the emergency room and Sam offered to stay and take care of the horses. They’d only agreed after she promised to go to Aunt Ella’s house after feeding the animals.

If she hurried, she could get to Aunt Ella’s in about twenty minutes, but that was a very fast ride. If she took her time, she would be there in about an hour. Sam figured no one would worry about her until afternoon, so she had plenty of time to enjoy a good long ride.

She loved the race track, and so did Thunder. She leaned lower over his neck and hugged him as he ran in a slow canter. His love of the run brought a smile to her lips. He would happily canter around the track for three or more laps before he started to tire.

He reminded her of her favorite books about the black stallion. She laughed. Thunder was hardly a black stallion type. But he had that kind of heart. And heart was more important than type any day. Thunder was a paint colored, pony gelding with a heavy body and strong legs. In everything but color he looked like a Welsh Cob. Deep down though, Sam knew he had the heart of an Arabian Stallion. Maybe even a black one.

* * *

Athair sat down next to Sandulfr on the back porch, using the opportunity to study Sgrios as they discussed the upcoming meeting. Sgrios looked as he always did, uneasy in his own skin and anxious to be away from the strain of socializing.

Even with his brother’s unease, Athair could easily forgive Hope’s accusations. He knew Sgrios was capable of killing and would do so without hesitation in the heat of battle. Despite always appearing on the verge of explosion, Sgrios actually was tightly controlled when around others. He restrained his emotions and actions to avoid harming those around him. But was he, after these long centuries, finally losing his battle for control? Although Athair considered Sgrios cleared of the crimes, the boy’s murder had made him wonder if something might cause Sgrios to kill an innocent. No, he was sure, Sgrios wouldn't lose his honor again, not like that once so long ago.

“Did you speak with Dàn?” Sgrios asked.

“Yes, but he didn’t tell me anything we don’t already know,” Athair answered.

“Do you think he knows more that he’s not telling us?” Sgrios sat slightly apart from Sandulfr, but it was obvious they had been talking for some time.

“Doesn’t he always? But all he said was that we should expect Bequlf to cause more problems.” Dàn had been blunter than that. As even tempered as Dàn usually was, he had grown angry at the mention of Bequlf. “What is the plan if Bequlf becomes a problem?”

“If he starts anything, we will finish it,” Sgrios growled.

“How many will he have with him?” Athair studied Sgrios more closely. There was a stillness to him that was unnerving.

“About a dozen,” Sandulfr said.

“Against how many of ours?” Athair puzzled over his brother’s odd behavior. Strangely, he almost seemed at ease, relaxed. “Will we be able to hold our own?”

“I brought five with me.” Sandulfr named three men to whom they had not yet spoken.

“We have the five boys with us. That makes our numbers about even,” Sgrios said with a satisfied rumble. So that was what made him so relaxed. He was battle ready, accepting that he would soon have the chance to expel his pent up powers.

“Hopefully it won’t come to open battle.” Sandulfr showed more optimism than Athair had for the upcoming events.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why doesn’t Bequlf just challenge you for leadership in open combat?” Athair asked.

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