Storm Wolf (29 page)

“I know what that pair of wolves would have done,” she confessed. “They would not have left this area, even if some of the men decided to hunt them down.”

He waited for her to continue.

“I know what they would have done… because they… you will not believe this,” she told him, looking away again and wiping her cheek. “I have never told anyone, not even Zygmunt or Sybilla. It is too impossible to believe.”

Alexei still waited, beginning to think he might know what she was about to say.

“That pair of wolves are my cousin and his wife.”

She slumped against Alexei’s shoulder and wept.

Alexei wrapped his arm around her, letting her weep until she was unable to weep any further. Birds twittered among the trees as the world awoke. Squirrels came down into the yard and stared at them, chittering and then scampering off.

Finally Beatrycze sat up and wiped her face with her apron.

“How is it that your cousin and his wife have become wolves?” Alexei asked quietly.

“You do not think that I am crazy?” Beatrycze seemed surprised.

“No, I do not think that you are crazy, Beatrycze,” he answered her. “I have… I have seen many things, both in Estonia and as I have made my way here through Latvia and Lithuania. Many things,” he repeated, “that might cause you to think that I am crazy if I were to tell you of them all.”

They sat together for a moment.

“How did it happen?” he asked.

Beatrycze wiped her face again. “It was last autumn,” she began. “Just before St. Martin’s Day and the first snowfall. My cousin—his name is Ferdynand—had come to work in the mine and he found a young girl here that he wanted to marry. He was to wed his betrothed—a girl named Gosia—and I said that I would help prepare the wedding feast, across the village on the other side of the mine.”

Alexei nodded to indicate he understood her so far. The need to visit the latrine began to return.

“It was two nights before their wedding,” Beatrycze resumed. “The wedding feast was to be simple, but we had spent days preparing. After the last loaf was baked and the last of the special wedding pierogi were stuffed and boiled, I stepped out of the house, intending to make my way to the outhouse, just as you did.”

Alexei crossed his legs, not wanting to interrupt Beatrycze but feeling the need to visit the outhouse becoming more urgent.

“I saw them both there, in the yard, in the moonlight. Ferdynand and Gosia. They were embracing, and I think more than embracing, but what of that? It was almost their wedding. I stood there, not wanting to shame them by making any noise and letting them know that I had seen them. But they were so intent on their… embrace?... that perhaps they would not have noticed if I had jumped and shouted at them.” Beatrycze looked out as if she could see them in the yard.

“As I stood there, watching them, I thought I saw something move alongside the outhouse. Gosia must have seen it also, because she pulled away from Ferdynand and said something to him. She took his hand and they moved away, toward the gate that opened onto the road alongside the house. They laughed and stepped onto the road, thinking… I don’t know… maybe to go someplace a bit more private? But as they stepped through the gate, they vanished, and I saw a pair of wolves where a moment before it had been my cousin and his intended!”

Alexei nodded and bit his lip, not wanting to interrupt her.

“The wolves stood there. I stood there. I think we were all shocked. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. Had the two of them just become wolves? Then the shadows alongside the outhouse moved and Frau Berhta came into the yard, hobbling on her clubfoot and cane, muttering in German. The wolves stood watching her come toward them, and then they ran off. Frau Berhta bent over when she reached the gate and picked up something that had been lying on the ground, a long belt of some kind. She called after the wolves, ‘Filthy animals! You Silesians—you Poles!—are all alike. You think to work in the mine and take your wages and then mock your betters behind our backs, do you? I heard about what you said in the tavern last Saturday! Did you think I wouldn’t? Now go run in the forest and live by your wits if you think you are so much better at managing your own lives!’ Then she hobbled off.”

Alexei’s heart leaped into his throat. Someone who knew about wolf-magic and transformations! Did he dare—? Could he hope—? But, no. This was a woman who clearly had no love for the non-Germans whom she lived among, who felt no kindness towards those who were less comfortable than she. It would dangerous—more than dangerous, it would be disastrous—to bring himself to her attention by asking for her magical assistance. There was no way to predict how she would react if she knew that her secret abilities had been discovered.

Beatrycze wiped another tear away. “I knew that no one would believe such a fantastic story, so I said nothing about what I had seen. When everyone realized the next morning that Ferdynand and Gosia were nowhere to be found, everyone assumed they had run off together and forgot about them, because of the way Ferdynand had been boasting at the tavern the week before about how poorly the Germans managed the mine and how much better he could manage the ironworks. Everyone knew that he dreamed big dreams and thought he had convinced Gosia to run off with him to make them come true.”

Alexei’s leg shook. Beatrycze seemed near the end of her tale and he badly needed to excuse himself.

“Later that week two wolves came sniffing around our yard as I was out feeding the chickens early one morning. I knew—I could see it in their eyes—that they were Ferdynand and Gosia! They looked scrawny and their fur was matted and full of leaves. They had always been such good, kind-hearted people. I knew that they could not bring themselves to kill anything to eat. So I promised them that I would always feed and care for them as best I could. I brushed them and have kept them fed all winter,” Beatrycze proudly declared. “They learned to groom and care for themselves, but I kept them fed so they would not be driven to kill.” She paused. “And now you know. What will you do? Tell my brother Zygmunt that I am mad?”

Alexei shook his head. “Of course not. I heard something last night in the tavern that I must soon leave here to learn more about. I need to earn a few more coins here and then be on my way. But I will stay long enough to help you and your cousin; I will do what I can to help you free them from this transformation inflicted on them! But, what will I do now? First? I must relieve myself!” He sprinted across the yard to the latrine as Beatrycze quietly laughed.

Alexei had decided that he needed to be on his way to Prague soon, to see the magicians and wizards that Filip had boasted of in the tavern. He’d wondered whether burning the pelt might not be the safest course of ridding himself of the wolf magic, but he feared doing that might kill him as well. A magician would be a far safer course. But first he had promised to help Beatrycze. He pondered over her story the rest of the morning. If he was no magician, and couldn’t rid himself of wolf magic, how could he help her to free her cousin and his fiancée?

Since it was Sunday, Alexei saw many of the women in the village, and some of the miners, making their way to Mass in the small wooden church near the mine. Zygmunt finally stirred from his bed and stumbled into the yard to wash his face in the trough as people were coming home again to share their Sunday dinners after the Mass. Alexei was sitting on the porch with a mug of tea, and Zygmunt joined him. Beatrycze brought him a mug of tea as well and then returned to her work in the house.

“Does the manager of the mine know how people feel about his mother?” Alexei was curious, having reflected on the near-riot of the night before as he sat in the morning sun.

“Frau Berhta is a widow, and her son took on the management of the ironworks in this area and in several other parts of Silesia,” Zygmunt answered, sipping from his steaming mug. “He travels between the various ironworks and coal mines his father was responsible for and that came to him when his father died. He knows the Germans are not popular in many parts of Silesia; how could he not? But does he know the particular animosity that Frau Berhta inspires? We only know for sure that he comes here infrequently. The rumor is that he does not care for her himself and that he avoids her because she has such a sharp and bitter tongue.”

Alexei continued to drink his tea.

“Has your sister Sybilla ever reported any strange goings-on in Frau Berhta’s house?” he asked.

Zygmunt looked at Alexei curiously and then stared across the yard. “Strange goings-on? Such as what? Why are you asking, friend?”

Alexei shook his head and set his tea down. “No reason. It just seems that such a sharp-tongued old woman would be sure to have strange habits that might inspire tales.”

Zygmunt grinned. “Yes, I see what you are thinking. Sybilla has told us of the scolding that Frau Berhta gives to all the maids and laundresses and others who work in her house. She says that Frau Berhta often prefers to spend her evenings alone after her supper, and I suppose that what she does then is for anyone to guess. But during the days she is simply an angry, bitter old woman who likes to talk about nothing so much but how much better folk the Germans are than us Silesians!” Both men chuckled at the thought.

They sat in friendly quiet, hearing Sybilla and Beatrycze clattering pots and pans as they bustled about the kitchen preparing the household’s Sunday dinner. Alexei would need to find out more about Frau Berhta if he was to help free Ferdynand and Gosia from their wolf shapes.

Alexei went back to work in the mine with Zygmunt, Benedikt, Ctirad, and the rest of the men the next morning. They toiled in the darkness, deep in the tunnels in the earth. There was little chance to chat with the other men or ask about any gossip that concerned Frau Berhta. Alexei realized that he needed to go about his inquiries carefully so as to not arouse suspicion. If it became known that he was looking for gossip about Frau Berhta’s strange behavior, the men who managed the mine in her son’s absence might dismiss him and the men known to be his friends. While he had no intention of staying in Silesia, having heard from Filip about the amazing skills of the magicians of Prague, he could not risk Zygmunt or any of the others losing their jobs because of him. But he needed to gather information quickly, as he remained a danger to them as long as the wolf transformation remained possible.

It was on Tuesday evening, after supper, that Alexei found Beatrycze standing on the porch, looking across the yard, her arms wrapped around herself and a shawl hung over her shoulders.

She glanced over her shoulder as she heard the porch creak when Alexei stepped onto the porch to join her. She turned back to the yard and, beyond the yard, the forest.

“Do you really think you can find a way to free Ferdynand and Gosia, Alexei?” she asked as she stared out into the dark.

Alexei was silent, and Beatrycze dared to look at him. “Is it possible? Or are they trapped in the forest as wolves forever?” she asked again.

“It is possible,” he reassured her. “But how? That I am still unsure of. But it could help if I could speak with Ferdynand and Gosia myself. Can I join you tomorrow morning when you bring them food? Will you introduce me and give me a chance to speak with them?”

“Speak with them?” Beatrycze laughed quietly, bitterly. “Have you heard anything that I have told you? Can you hear yourself talk? They are wolves, Alexei! There is no speaking to them!” She kept staring out into the darkness. “But I will introduce you. I will bring their food out early, before you and Zygmunt leave for the mine, while Zygmunt is still dressing. Come out onto the porch then and I will introduce you.”

So the next morning, as Zygmunt was dressing inside, Alexei—having risen early and dressed already—stood on the porch with Beatrycze as she set out the food for the wolves. They did not have to wait long. Ferdynand and Gosia came bounding out from the trees, tumbling up the steps in their eagerness to greet Beatrycze. But then they saw Alexei, in the shadows, and they pulled back from her, one wolf whining, the other with its lip curled up in a snarl.

Beatrycze dropped down between them onto one knee and wrapped her arms around each wolf’s shoulder, pulling their heads in towards hers. She whispered to them.

“Ferdynand, Gosia. This is my friend, Alexei. He has come from the north, from Estonia, and he thinks he might be able to help us. Help you. He says he wants to speak to you, though. Can you do that?” She looked from one wolf to the other and the larger one nodded.

Beatrycze stood and stepped away. Alexei knelt down where she had crouched and put his hands on either side of the larger wolf’s head, looking into its eyes. The wolf tilted its head slightly, quizzically, as if to ask Alexei what he thought this might accomplish. Alexei smiled at the wolf and spoke quietly.

“Ferdynand? Gosia? Will you help me, please? I need to know what you know of Frau Berhta, of how she did this and how it might be undone. Anything, anything at all that might help us know how to free you,” he explained. He kept looking into the wolf’s eyes.

He felt his mind drift and he reached out to the wolf with his thoughts, hoping that he might hear the wolf as he had heard the Master of Wolves in the woods of Latvia or Javinė in the barn in Lithuania. His thoughts slipped into the wolf’s mind and Alexei heard—

No, he didn’t hear. He saw. He smelled. He saw the sun-dappled leaves of the forest in the spring. He smelled the fresh earth as it began to wake from its winter sleep. He felt the affection the wolf felt for Beatrycze, its gratitude for the food she brought them. Further back, he felt the wolf shivering in the snow, saw the snowflakes dropping from the sky like a heavy curtain, felt the pangs of hunger in its belly, its reluctance to kill. He felt its fright at the unexpected transformation, saw Frau Berhta gloating as she hobbled closer to them.