Chapter Seven: Terrible Habits

... the hermit's habits are exposed

 

The sun was already setting behind High Mountain when the mayoress’ daughter called out for the other students to stop.  They were pulling away the burnt timber from the ruins; anything that looked salvageable had been stacked in one pile, while those that were obviously unusable were placed in another.  Mariquita’s heart sank as she looked at the pitifully small pile of wooden posts and planks that were not totally blackened by the fire.  They would need a miracle to rebuild.  But she was not about to show any of her fears to the others.

“We had better start a fire for the evening meal,” she said calmly to the group, “Mayumi, come with me to the granary.”

They had only taken a few steps when Mariquita called back to the others.

“And make sure it is only a small fire.”

 

 

Magdalo sat up from his blanket and looked at the sleeping figures of Calmando and Lemuel.  They had made good time, covering several leagues before the night made it both impossible and foolish to travel any farther.  The veil of darkness that surrounded the Medero had descended rather slowly for this time of year.  The hermit shook his head; he thought he knew every mood his golden mistress of sand had to offer " after all, he had spent years sleeping, cradled in her bosom " but just when he thought he had figured her out, she would show another side that would confuse him all over again. 

“How like a woman,” Magdalo said softly to himself.  He held out his trembling hands to the fire for a few minutes, hoping its warmth would seep deeper into him, but the cold that had gripped his heart since he saw Falcon Eye’s school burning the previous night, had not eased.  And now his brother and Laoakan were nowhere to be found.  The hermit gathered up his satchel and walking stick, stood up and quietly left the camp.  He did not look back.

 

 

 

After leaving the stallion tethered at the foot of a hill, Laoakan crept up the rise.  He had seen the thin smoke from the campfire and decided to investigate.  He recognized the two figures of Calmando and Lemuel asleep by the fire.  How unfortunate that the mayoress’ daughter was not with them.  No matter, she could be dealt with later and certainly with greater ease than the two young men.  A wolf howl broke through the silence, the assistant smiled.  Then again, with the help of some four-legged friends, it might not be too difficult to get rid of the farmer’s son and the nephew of the governor.  Laoakan turned around and slithered down the hill, back to where his mount was tied.

“Shhh,” he whispered to the stallion, as he gently stroked the horse’s strong neck.  He reached into the saddle-bag and pulled a small sack of salt.  Taking a fistful, he brought it to the animal’s mouth.  The stallion greedily licked the substance from Laoakan’s hand. When it was done, the assistant once again stroked the its neck and mane.

“Falcon Eye never appreciated you, my beautiful boy,” he said, patting the horse’s forehead, “but I do.  You have no idea how much you’ve helped me. But we still have a few more chores left to do together.” The animal tossed his head and nickered softly.  Holding the reins, Laoakan mounted, and turned the stallion towards the direction of the gorges of the Medero, where the wolves were known to live.

 

 

 

Calmando sat up with a start.  He was dreaming of the battle he had fought with the wolf two days ago, but in his dream, he had been too late to reach Mariquita.  The beast had run her down, and the screams in his nightmare woke the farmer’s son.  Several moments passed before Calmando’s breathing eased.  He felt for the long sword beside him and felt relieved when his hand touched the cold steel.  He shook his head to clear it and was about to lie down again when he noticed the empty space between him and Lemuel.  When had Magdalo left?

 

 

 

The three adult wolves, two females and a juvenile male, were restless; it had been several days since any of them had eaten and if any of the pups were to survive, they had to make a kill soon.  The alpha male had not returned after setting off to hunt alone three days earlier, so they had looked to his mate for leadership.  The older of the two females growled, then she set out of the den and down the gorge, the others followed.

 

 

Laoakan stopped his mount, he had not traveled far from where Calmando and Lemuel were camped. The stallion tossed his head again and the assistant knew that it could smell the markings the wolves had left on the rocks around them.

“Easy, boy,” Laoakan said.  He reached for the long knife in his coat with one hand while the other tightened the reins, lifting the horse’s head.  Then he reached under the animal’s head, and cut a gash into the stallion’s neck.

“Good boy,” the assistant said softly as the poor beast shivered under him, the sand beneath its hooves slowly turning red from the drops of blood that trickled from the wound, “I need you to hold on just a little longer.”

 

 

 

Mariquita held the bowl she was handing out tighter.  The distant howling brought back the memory of two nights ago and the fear and terror she felt.  Her hands trembled as she remembered Calmando’s fierce battle with the wolf and the wounds he had suffered. 

“Is anything wrong, Mariquita?” the young man she was giving the bowl to asked.

“It’s probably nothing, Hilario,” she quickly answered, “but do you think those wolves will come any closer?”

“I don’t think so, Mariquita.  Our camp-fire may not be big, but the smell of burnt wood is still strong and they’re very wary of that.”

“They?”

“The howling is not just of one wolf, Mariquita.  It sounds like it’s coming from a pack.”

Her tiny gasp of fear was not lost on Hilario.

“If you like, the boys and I can add more wood to the flames and take turns standing guard.”

The mayoress’ daughter nodded as she handed him the bowl of rice stew.  She knew Hilario thought she was afraid of the wolves attacking them, and he was not mistaken, but her greater fear was for her three friends who were out in the darkness of the desert.  Another howl floated from the gorges of the Medero.

“Please be safe,” she whispered softly.

 

 

 

The full moon painted the rocks surrounding the hermit a cathedral grey.  He hoped he had gone far away enough from where the two young men lay asleep.  He did not want an audience for what he was about to do.  He put his walking stick down and opened the small bag he had.  He took out a short candle and a box of matches.  He lit the candle and placed it on a nearby rock.  Then he reached into the bag again and drew out a small packet of white crystals.  Falcon Eye had not approved of the stuff and was skeptical of its benefits.  Magdalo had tried to explain to his older brother how the crystals helped him, but Falcon Eye refused to listen.

“They have become more than an aid to you, Magdalo,” his older brother warned him, “they are now a crutch that you cannot do without.”

The hermit remembered Falcon Eye’s words as he began to pound a few of the crystals with a loose rock.  His older brother had to be wrong; in truth, it had been years since Magdalo had last used them.  The last time he touched them was the day that they had argued and he had left the school.  He began to pound into the crystals harder, they began to break into smaller pieces. But tonight, he needed the calm the crystals could give him.  Magdalo pounded even harder.  Soon he had a small amount of fine white powder.  He pinched a small amount of it between two fingers, brought it to his nostrils and inhaled deeply.

 

 

 

The unmistakable smell of fresh blood drew the wolf pack closer to where Laoakan and the stallion were.  The assistant could make out their shadows as they approached.  He could feel the horse beneath him steadily weakening from the loss of blood.

“Just a moment more, boy,” he whispered.

Finally, he saw the red eyes of the wolves!  He turned his poor mount and mercilessly kicked the stallion’s heaving belly.

“One final ride, my beauty!” Laoakan cried as the steed broke into full gallop.  Terrifying growls escaped from the wolves as they pursued the assistant and the half-dead horse - back to the camp where Calmando and Lemuel lay asleep.