The Dog Master Read Online Free Page B

The Dog Master
Book: The Dog Master Read Online Free
Author: W. Bruce Cameron
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lone person can survive the winter, though that is what will eventually be upon me: a winter on my own, in this place. Until I starve.”
    He sighed again.
    â€œI do not even know what I am to do about you. You may die soon—your wounds do not appear to be festering, but clearly something inside you is broken and your rear legs cannot function. I have never eaten wolf meat. And your young—what will happen if I let them live?”
    When the mother-wolf had consumed the bone, she felt sated. She put her head down.
    â€œI have heard of how a pack of wolves kill a man. How he will scream while they tear the flesh from his body.”
    There was a silence. The wolf licked her lips, tasting reindeer on them.
    â€œI cannot let that happen to me. And I know if I tried to take your pups from you now, you would fight me with all your remaining strength.
    â€œI do not understand why you are here. I cannot really even comprehend why I am here. And I do not know what I am going to do.”

 
    THREE
    Year One
    His name was Silex. He was of the Wolf People, the Wolfen, and had been chosen to pay tribute to the wolves. He was seeking the pack that his tribe had been giving offerings to for as long as anyone could remember, but he did not find those wolves—instead, he was tracking three young wolves who were new to him, juveniles he had only been able to glimpse at a great distance. He was following them because they were younger and, he hoped, less dangerous than full-grown adults. The friendly wolf pack allowed itself to be approached and given meat, but that did not mean they would not kill a man if they had the chance.
    He was afraid. He was only sixteen years old and had never been asked to do this before. The duty of providing food to the wolves normally fell to Silex’s father. Silex’s father led the Wolfen, but he had stumbled in some rocks and broken his ankle so severely a bone had pierced the skin. Now the wound festered and was hot to the touch, so Silex had been pressed into service.
    The young wolves’ trail was not difficult to follow, though he still had a sense of being far away from them. There was a path along the stream, here, the ground moist and imprinted with both claw and hoof. To the south, downstream, a settlement of humans who called themselves the Kindred spent their summers among some small caves. Between the stream and the wide cold river to the east was Kindred territory. The other side of the river was where the Wolfen roamed. The land this far north, though, belonged to no tribe. These were the northern wilds.
    He carried a spear in case he encountered any threat, human or otherwise, and he also carried the front quarter of a reindeer, awkwardly tied in a sling fashioned from strips of hide. The food was the tribute. It was heavy and the excitement Silex had felt when his people solemnly bade him farewell with it had evolved into something like resentment. He was Wolfen, so he ran wherever he went, but his gait was awkward with the tribute bouncing on his hip.
    The stream turned away from the path after a time, clinging to a jumble of large rocks to the right. On the left a sunny, grassy area shimmered in the summer sun. Silex felt uneasy as he passed the pleasant, safe-looking area, a defensible space where, had he been hunting, he might have stopped to camp for the night. Where were the wolves taking him?
    *   *   *
    It was the first time the three juveniles had left the main pack to hunt on their own. Their enthusiasm felt as if it were bursting from the earth into the pads of their feet, their gait gloriously unrestrained as they followed their noses toward the succulent presence of a herd gathered somewhere up ahead.
    The scent had grown no stronger for some time and the female suddenly slowed, her instincts telling her that their jubilance had cost them too much energy on this hunt.
    The summer had been good to them thus far. The juveniles had

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