Back to the Pack

Peter’s POV
A naked Barlas drags the unconscious ginger-haired assailant back to the inn with us, while the rest of us flank him in wolf form.

Once we re-enter the bar area and are changed and dressed again, I go and talk to the silent barman.

I nod towards my party and the comatose man. ‘Is there anywhere we can stash our prisoner for the night?’ I ask.

The man simply looks at me. The moment draws out, and I am beginning to wonder what my next step should be when Ann appears through a side door.

‘You require something sir,’ she asks me.

‘Is there somewhere we can stash our prisoner for the night?’ I reiterate.

A thoughtful look crosses her face, then she smiles. ‘I have just the place sir. Follow me. And it is close to your rooms too.’

I follow Ann up the stairs to the same floor our rooms are on. Midway along the corridor she stops in front of a solid looking oak door and reaches for the big bundle of keys attached at her belt.

She works through the keys looking for the right one then inserts it into the door lock and turns it. The lock clunks open, and Ann pushes the door open to reveal a large walk-in cupboard, which currently houses a selection of linens, bedding, towels and toiletries. Basically everything needed to make up a room.

‘Will this be sufficient sir?’ she asks. I am just about to respond that I am a little concerned about the contents getting damaged when she continues. ‘If it is, I will get Garth to empty it for you.’

I look round to see the silent barman right behind me. How in the Goddess’s name did he do that? I am a wolf. I should know who is around me at all times.

I nod my acceptance, and Garth gets to work. In less than ten minutes the cupboard is bare, bar a mattress, which Garth dragged in, a pillow and a blanket.

Barlas unburdens himself, dropping the insensible man onto the mattress, and pulling the door shut behind him. Ann locks the door, removes the key from the ring and hands it to me.

‘Goodnight sir,’ she says, and walks back to the stairwell, Garth in tow.

I look round at my men. ‘Two watches of two men,’ I order. ‘Try and get some sleep between times. We will need to leave early.’

I make my way wearily towards my room, slightly conflicted. I am desperate to see my love, but am worried about her reaction to our prisoner, housed just three doors away from her.

I reach out to Emma on my way to the room, but realise that she is asleep, so I link with Jess instead.

*Everything okay* I ask.
*All quiet Petey,* she responds. *Emma finally settled into a restless sleep about 30 minutes ago.*

*I will be there is two minutes.* I tell her and cut the link.

I am pleased to see a troll on guard outside the bedroom door, blocking nearly the entire corridor.

‘Hi,’ I say. ‘Thank you for your help tonight. Here is the promised payment.’ I pass him four gold, then watch him lumber back to the stairwell, before pushing open the door he guarded.

The door swings open silently, and I see Jess rise from a chair by the bed. She grabs a few items from the bedside table; her phone, her room key and a book; and exits the room. I enter and stand for a minute staring down at my love.

She looks tiny. Dressed in one of my shirts, which it looks like she has scrunched up so she can sniff it while she sleeps. I can still see the bruising around her eyes and on her wrist. My heart clenches, that she had to go through that, hopefully the capture of Hare, and some werewolf justice will help heal her heart.

I divest myself of my shoes, shirt and trousers, and carefully climb into bed, curling myself protectively around my little mate.

‘Lux off,’ I whisper, then shut my eyes and drift off to sleep.
…
Morning comes far too soon, the only good thing being the soft warm female form in my arms. I spend some minutes, inhaling her scent and stroking any exposed skin; her face, arms and one leg thrown over the counterpane.

‘Mmmm’ she mumbles sleepily, rolling into my arms. Her eyes fly open ‘Peter you are back.’ She exclaims excitedly.

‘Yes my love, but sadly we need to get moving. We captured one of the familiars last night, and I want to get him back to Whitewater for interrogation.’ I state, then go on to describe the events of the previous night.

‘Thank you,’ she says and kisses me. I look a little confused.

‘For looking after me, for protecting me, but also for trusting me with the truth. Lots of men… hell lots of people… don’t do that. Keep this up and I might just fall in love with you.’ She explains with a gentle smile.

I don’t know if I am happy or upset. I decide to accept the good, and we can work on the love. I know I love her. She is my one, and I will do anything for her to feel the same way about me.

We get up, washed and dressed; ready for the day; then head towards the stairs to meet the rest of the party in the bar.

We pass Onan and Decebal on guard duty outside the linen cupboard door. I nod to them and continue on. The smell of bacon assaults my nose on the stairs, and Emma’s stomach starts to grumble. I hide a smile, for such a small thing she is always hungry.

As we walk into the bar Jess passes us a bacon roll each. There are flasks of coffee on the table behind her, and I quickly snag myself and Emma one each.

Emma eyes her sandwich for a moment. ‘Any sauce,’ she asks hopefully. ‘You know brown sauce, HP.’

‘Sorry Em,’ I tell her. ‘We have mustard, but brown sauce has never made the leap between realms.’

She looks a little downbeat and whispers to her sandwich. ‘Well Toto, it looks like we are not in Kansas anymore.’

We eat our breakfast in companionable quiet, and as I finish my third roll Barlas clears his throat.

‘I have four horses organised, one for Emma, one for the prisoner, one for a guard, and one for luggage, as I thought that would be quicker than a cart.’

‘Good job,’ I tell Barlas, and, as if on cue, we hear the sound of a groom with our hired horses.

The next half an hour is taken up with loading up the horses, and making sure that Decebal and Onan get some breakfast too. The now conscious familiar is hog-tied over the saddle, with Jess as the mounted guard, and the rest of us transform into our wolves.

The party moves out towards the western exit from the town. Emma settles down into riding quickly and the prisoner moans how uncomfortable he is.
…
The road west leads to the gateways. These are big stone arches infused with magic which allow for fast, long distance, mass transit throughout the realm.
Brigadoon is about ten miles from a collection of eight gates. Between six and eight are the usual number close to portals between the human and supernatural worlds, while elsewhere you generally find one or two, with four marking a major hub. The only place with more gates is golden city, which is encircled by twenty-four separate gates, and it is rumoured there is a twenty fifth hidden deep within the palace, that will take the traveller to whichever of the thousands of gates across the realm they wish to travel to.

Whitewater is a bit of a backwater, with a single gateway located fifteen miles from the packhouse.
…
The journey to the gates takes a couple of hours, as anything above a walk is impractical for the prisoner. Personally, I don’t care, but I want to get information out of him about his master, and why they have targeted Emma, so slow and steady it is.

Emma is overawed by the gates, and I look at them seeing them through her eyes, they are an impressive piece of architecture. Each gateway is over a hundred feet tall and approximately sixty feet across. The outside of each one is made of carved quartz pillars which arch overhead and meet at an intricately carved keystone. The stones give a clue to where the gates lead; the eight here have keystones carved with a crown, a running wolf, a bat, a water symbol, a cat, fire, a cave, and an oak tree.

As we approach you can see the shimmer of magic across the gates, slightly distorting the view on the other side. Magical indeed.

I am glad that the journey home is only a two-gate hop, with no journey between the gates after the first leg. We approach the Water gate and walk through.

The landscape changes instantaneously. We have gone from a rugged Scottish hillside to a flat stone outcrop by a wide river which is slowly making its way to the sea. Here there are four gates: a crown, water and tree, water and cave, and a dragon head.

I move the party on.

‘Straight through the Water/Oak gate’ I instruct.

Everyone makes their way through the gateway, again the landscape changes. Lush rolling grasslands, and a small river, calm and peaceful, with a forest on the far
side.

I lead the party upstream and several miles later we reach a stone bridge which we cross. The road loops away from the river as it passes through the woods.

My skin tingles on an open stretch of road, as we pass into packlands.

*We are home*