Chapter Seventeen

Strategy is a pattern in a stream of decisions.

—Henry Mintzberg

 

“STOP HUMMING IT,” Thomas said and hip-checked Ryan as they dressed to go check on everything outside. The snowfall during the night had been heavy. Ryan had told him he was worried about his coop, livestock, and the roof over the firewood stack, and that they’d have to remove all the snow from the solar panels.

“Humming what?” Ryan bit his lip.

“It really is an awful song.”

“It’s catchy.”

“The words.” Thomas made a disgusted face. “I was an idiot back then.”

“You were a kid. It was rock and roll. And I don’t know any other Wolfy songs.”

“It’s not a Wolfy song at all. And don’t say, Wolfy.” Thomas gave Ryan a look to end the conversation.

“Fine,” Ryan grumbled and picked up the axe by the front door.

But Thomas could see the silent wheels turning. He sighed. “Fine. There’s ‘Hungry Like the Wolf.’ Remember Duran Duran?”

Ryan shook his head, and Thomas knew Ryan knew. He rolled his eyes up to the sky and then back at Ryan, who seemed to be fighting an effort not to laugh, eyes twinkling with humor and a locked-tight jaw.

Thomas hummed the song, then sang it a little with all the do’s, and sang about being on the hunt, being after you…

Ryan lost it but rolled his hand as he laughed like the old Ryan used to, throwing his head back and sending the woods around them into silence as he let it out.

So, Thomas sang on as they worked, starting on one he doubted Ryan knew about running with the Wolves. Ryan sobered as he listened. Thomas lightened the song’s sad mood, singing Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London” instead.

And as Thomas ah-hooed and sang the silly lyrics, the smile returned as Ryan listened to Thomas sing the old but recognized song. Thomas sang the part about perfect hair, exaggerating, touching Ryan’s hair and making Ryan laugh again as he danced around him, flirting in that teasing way he used to. Ryan’s eyes never left Thomas, just like he used to watch him so intently.

It was good.

They were good.

And the chickens were fine.

Ryan had enclosed most of their coop for the winter so they would be protected from the harsh elements. Ryan’s ladies were all happy. The wood stores were also in good shape, although plastic covered the second stack now buried under thick snow. The goats huddled in their crude little lean-to barn that Ryan had built and filled with dried strawlike grass he’d cut down for them.

“This spring, we need to build a real barn and add on. We’ll have kids.” Thomas motioned to the three pregnant goats. “Then build a roof over the second woodpile. That is, if we’re staying here? I mean, it belongs to someone else.”

“Tristan said I could stay here forever. He has several other houses and rarely comes here. He only keeps it because his father made him promise to never get rid of it. He did say he might spend some time here and write a book, but I don’t think that will be any time soon. He’s been busy trying to wrap up all his parent’s affairs and properties after they died.”

“So you can build and make improvements?”

“Yeah, he said it’s me, or it sits empty forever. He said something about when he died, it would get donated to the national forest or something. He only cares that the sawmill never gets it.”

Thomas thought this was good information to know.

“I would buy it from him, but I can’t access any of my inheritance from my parents,” Ryan said. “I want to pay Tristan back for all he’s done, but he’s pretty loaded. He just said to take care of the place and do whatever I want.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. Live here and make it all we’ve dreamed of unless you want to go anywhere else?”

“No way, this is it.” Ryan added, “If that’s okay with you?”

“It’s our dream.” Thomas held out his arms, indicating everything around them.

Ryan grinned and looked around. “I’m going to ask Tristan if he can arrange for us to get sheep. I think you’d enjoy working with sheep wool. I can only imagine the things you could make. And it would be another source of meat.”

Thomas agreed, happy with the idea. He imagined them also raising rabbits, all of the things they could do with the fur, the meat, and then he thought of those sheep, leading him to visions of a loom and knitting needles. The kind of things the pack still used. He opened his mouth to tell Ryan, but at that moment, a Wolf howled, and Thomas sighed heavily, putting the dream sharing on hold for now.

“Come on, let’s see what that’s about,” he said.

Ryan and Thomas worked their way through the thick snow and made it to the tree line, where two Wolves and one man waited.

“Father,” Thomas said, a little shocked, not expecting a meeting until the spring.

“Son,” Malcolm said.

“Councilmembers,” Thomas said and bowed, and Ryan also bowed, following Thomas. “This is my mate, Ryan Mitchum.”

Thomas hadn’t discussed the new name with Ryan, though Ryan’s smile seemed to show his approval. And he didn’t say anything about it either, other than Thomas hearing Ryan trying out his new name in his mind.

Ryan Mitchum… Ryan then glanced at Thomas.

Nope. Thomas guessed there wouldn’t be any hyphenating. He was pleased but tried to hide it over this silent decision and lack of argument from Ryan to keep his name.

“Yes, we’re here to confirm your mate’s status for the archive,” Malcolm said.

Ryan stuck out his hand to Malcolm. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Malcolm glanced down and then shook Ryan’s hand.

“I feel like I know you, with all the stories Thomas used to tell me about you,” Ryan said with a smile, and that did seem to please Malcolm.

“Did he?” Malcolm glanced at Thomas.

“All the time,” Ryan said.

One of the Wolves let out a bit of a growl.

“Yes, then,” Malcolm said. “Thomas, your mate’s name will be added to the pack record and archive. The council wanted to confirm that we would still meet in the spring to discuss the status of the decrees.”

“We can. If the pack is worried about us coming to the packhouse, they don’t need to. We will live here. We’d like permission to utilize traders for supplies we’ll need. We’re willing to barter and pay in trade. We intend to farm and raise livestock. I know the pack could benefit from a closer supply of milk, eggs, and rabbit. And fresh vegetables, potatoes, and corn once we expand our crops in the spring.”

Malcolm appeared both shocked and pleased with this revelation. Thomas knew his pack always needed those supplies. They didn’t farm, something Thomas had tried to argue they should, and he never understood their resistance.

“Yes,” Malcolm said after glancing at the other two. “I think an arrangement like that would be beneficial to everyone. Just give me a supply list. There are a few pack members who have expressed a continued interest in farming. I know Penn is also very interested. Maybe this is something we can revisit in the spring, and with Mr. Steele.” Malcolm motioned southward to the abandoned fields in the floodplains below the mountains.

Thomas and Ryan both agreed. Ryan’s rapid thoughts told Thomas he was pleased with all the new ideas. And Thomas knew Ryan desperately wanted to farm, to eventually be able to live completely off the land, not reliant on anyone but themselves.

Thomas spoke again. “I do have information for the council. Tristan Steele has given Ryan responsibility for the Steele lands. To live on and maintain the property indefinitely. Upon Tristan Steele’s death, the land would potentially be donated to the national forest for conservation, but we want to purchase it from him. Ultimately, it will never be sold to the sawmill. This was part of the promise Steele Senior demanded from his son. I thought the council would be pleased to know the land will stay preserved. The pack will continue to be safe.”

Malcolm appeared pleased with this new information. “That is good news. And you are prepared for the winter?”

Thomas confirmed they were.

Malcolm looked at the Wolf on his left and then the Wolf on his right.

“One last thing,” Malcolm said. “One of our scouts has located evidence of a rogue pack along the far western border of the national forest land and moving east. From the tracks, they appear to be from the Norwegian Bellum Pack.”

Thomas choked, eyes wide.

Malcolm nodded gravely.

“Fuck,” Thomas muttered and glanced at Ryan. “War Wolves.” He turned back to his father. “We’ll fight with the pack. Our differences don’t matter with a threat like that.”

Thomas kept his eyes on Ryan, noting as he perceived the relief on Malcolm’s face, and then shifted his attention to the hair on the two Wolves’ backs as it relaxed back down. He was half listening to Ryan’s thoughts but needed to focus on the issue at hand.

“How many?” Thomas asked, turning back to his father.

“At least thirty. Big and all male.”

Thomas understood what that meant. “They have ill intentions, then.”

“That’s our perception as well. We suspect the Bellums are being driven out of their lands. We don’t know why, other than they are wanting to relocate their pack. There are hundreds of miles of land and ample resources here. More protected and cut off from humans than any other location in North America.” Malcolm swallowed hard. “The only other reason they could be coming is for punishment for violating Wolf law.”

“There is no hope of a peaceful resolution, of talks. Prayers to the Pillars?” Thomas asked, though he already knew the answer, and Ryan, sharing his thoughts, turned to him with wide eyes.

Malcolm shook his head hard. “Bellum Wolves on the move like that only means one thing. They give enough time for a pack to leave or decide to stay and fight them. If they had any intention of talks, they would have sent three.” Malcolm held his hands out, indicating the Wolves at his sides.

“The rule of three,” Thomas explained to Ryan. “When there are three Wolves present, like this—” Thomas pointed to his father and the council members at his sides. “—the law says that the intention is for talks, not a threat. It’s how Wolf packs communicate with one another. They send three representatives to deliver messages back and forth.”

It makes sense, Ryan thought, and Thomas silently agreed with him.

“Is the council considering sending three before the Bellums are on top of us?” Thomas asked.

Malcolm replied, “They leave out today but need to cross your land.”

“No problem; that’s always alright. We honor all treaties and decrees,” Thomas said. “But we’ll need to fight them in the Boar Lands, to the west on Steele land, away from the packhouse.”

Malcolm asked approvingly, “Why there?”

Thomas pointed up to the sky. “The skywalk there and crossbows. The boars alone would take out many of their fighters. If any made it through, there is a cave just north of that location. If they thought that was the packhouse…” Thomas paused for a moment. “If they thought they were attacking the packhouse there, but all the nonfighting Wolves remained safe in the real packhouse, that could work. The Bellum Wolves don’t know the exact location of the packhouse, right?”

“Only the Mitchum pack know, but the Bellums could track it down. The scent trails are strong,” Malcolm said.

“Then we move the fighters and scouts to the Steele Cave, get the scents down, the trails worn, and work to eliminate the scents and trails to the real packhouse. We deceive them and then strike from the sky where they cannot get to us. They’ll attack as Wolves, yes?”

“Yes,” Malcolm answered.

“Then we need to fight as humans and Wolves, use archers on the skywalk, possibly build another skywalk. Shoot from above, use the boar, and when they attack the cave…” Thomas paused and shot a side eye at Ryan.

Ryan agreed. “Yeah, whatever you think we should do.”

“…burn them in the cave,” Thomas continued with an evil tone.

Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course, you’d go there.”

Malcolm sighed, almost as if he agreed with Ryan.

“They are War Wolves,” Thomas said. “Didn’t you teach me that their only goal is to kill, punish, or conquer? Fine, then we fight them in the cave. I will explore the cave and see if there are any better options.”

“It goes back pretty far,” Ryan said. “I have a map showing how far it has been explored. It’s big. I’ve been inside it.”

“Good, we will return and discuss this plan with the rest of the council and the pack,” Malcolm said. “May we take the map? We will return it.”

“Yes,” Ryan answered and looked at Thomas. Thomas agreed and Ryan headed back to the cabin.

When Ryan was gone, Thomas turned to his father and smiled. “I told you he is good.”

Malcolm appeared as if he might be pleased with Thomas for a change. “I can sense that about him. He will help then?”

“Yes, but Dad, you need to stock up on crossbows, compound bows, and start training the fighters as humans for this to work, for us to even stand a chance against them,” Thomas said. “Arrows are better than the gun option. Guns will draw too much attention with the noise, if not there, somewhere far from the packhouse. The cave is just the most tactical place I could think of and where the rangers don’t patrol. No one in their right mind goes near the Boar Lands. Well, except for my mate,” Thomas added in disbelief. “He hunts there.”

Malcolm seemed shocked but said, “So did Mr. Steele. We would have to be very careful with the cave plan.”

“I’ll find a solution other than fire.” Thomas shrugged. He was, after all, an arsonist. It was in his nature to burn what harmed or threatened him and his. “We’ll let the boars fight for us. It’ll wear the Bellums down. We need fencing and bear spray to use against the boars while we put our plan in place. It won’t kill them, but it will help keep our own fighters safe while we’re preparing.”

“I’ll have the scouts start the path and scent trails in the Boar Lands if the council approves the plan. That will take the most time to accomplish. To make that scent there more powerful than the packhouse,” Malcolm added. “Our scent trails have leached into this land so deep.” He sighed with the weight of it all.

“We are a peaceful and private pack. Why would we live any other way. But Dad, we can’t expect to survive if we fight as a peaceful pack.”

Ryan returned with a tub containing the maps. “I’ve studied these closely, but you need to look at them together to get the true picture. There is vital information on each one. Mr. Steele made extensive notes. He carefully studied and documented this land. You’ll see.”

“These are why you never crossed into our territory?” Malcolm asked him.

“Yes, it’s one reason. Wolf territory is clearly marked but not as dangerous as the Boar Lands. The ‘skywalk’ Thomas referred to is labeled ‘Boar Stand.’”

“Skywalk sounds way cooler,” Thomas mumbled.

“Skywalk it is,” Malcolm said with some amusement.

“There’s a second skywalk on the deer map, marked ‘Deer Stand,’” Ryan continued. “I’ve used it. It’s smaller, but it could be moved. I think the one in the Boar Lands could support ten men—the deer one, around five. The man Mr. Steele bought the place from used to run a large hunting club here. There are also many traps stored in the cabin. I don’t use them, but in a time of war…” Ryan trailed off at the horror on Thomas and Malcolm’s faces. The two council Wolves growled their disapproval.

Ryan held his hands up. “They were here before me. And they’re horrible, wicked things, but I’m just offering them up as an advantage in war. I doubt these Wolves you describe are coming here to fight clean. There are a lot of them, different sizes. Tristan said his father never used the traps either.”

“My father spoke of that man. He was no friend of the Wolves,” Malcolm replied but said nothing further.

It was clear there was no love for the former owner or the animal traps.

“Let the council decide on the traps. There’s no room for weakness or sympathy in war, Father,” Thomas said somberly. He intentionally looked at Councilman Adler’s Wolf as he spoke the following words. “I don’t like the trap idea either, but it’s something we should seriously consider.” He shivered, and Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment.

“Okay, we’ll be heavily crossing your lands in the next few days,” Malcolm concluded.

“I only ask that they stick to the Wolf path and not paths marked by my mate’s”—Thomas thumbed at Ryan—“little pink survey flags in the trees. So their scent won’t lead the Bellums directly to our cabin. Those paths still smell very human.”

Malcolm approved. “We’ll return after the council has made a decision and let you know.”

“You can just come to the cabin, and we can talk inside where it’s warm,” Ryan suggested as he rubbed his arms. “Bring your council or whoever you need to, and we can help work out the details. You can see what’s stored in the basement.”

Malcolm appeared a little taken aback, but Thomas could tell Ryan hadn’t understood his reaction.

“Your Wolves are welcome in our home as long as they mean us no harm,” Thomas said.

Malcolm smiled at Thomas again. “Get me your supply list soon.”

Thomas bowed, and Ryan followed his action before the three turned and headed back into the woods.

“Come on; we need to talk in private,” Thomas said and tugged at Ryan’s arm, pulling him towards Thomas’s undisclosed den in the woods.

“Fine, but I’m freezing. Why not the cabin?” Ryan asked.

“Because they can hear through the walls there, and no one can down in the den. It’s too deep underground,” Thomas said, kind of panicky.

“Uh, the pantry?” Ryan pointed out, and Thomas stopped, smiled at Ryan, and changed his direction. “Thank goodness, my balls are frozen.”

Thomas snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, mine too.”