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Her knees felt as though they were about to give way. “M'Lady?” From within the enclosure, there came yells, whacks and yelps as the other soldier meted out some harsh punishment.
    “I'm…I'm all right,” she managed, breathlessly. “The chain stopped him short.”
    “I'm very sorry, M'Lady,” said the young soldier, gallantly. He seemed most pleased at his successful rescue. “Someone should have warned you about the wolf. It was an oversight. Someone shall be punished for it, I assure you.”
    “Wolf?” Alythia blinked at him.
    “Yes, M'Lady, it's a wolf. A she-wolf.” The second soldier was emergingnow, his sword and scabbard in hand, closing the gate behind him. “It was a gift from a merchant just eight months ago. A beautiful little cub it was then, with big paws and big ears, and soft grey fur. Master Tristi and Mistress Elra were very fond of it and it followed them everywhere.” The soldier's lips twisted with an ironic smile. “But pretty wolf cubs, you know, they soon grow into big wolves.”
    “You can't keep a wolf for a pet!” Even Alythia knew that. “They can't be tamed, no matter how friendly they are when they're little! And they grow up so fast!”
    “Doubtless M'Lady has much highland knowledge of such things that we lowlanders have not learned,” said the soldier. “I think the animal should be killed, myself, for its own sake as much as others’. But the children still recall the little cub, and cannot bring themselves to…”
    “Wait…highland knowledge?” Alythia looked back toward the gate. “It's a Lenay wolf?”
    “Yes, M'Lady.” The soldier's look was quizzical. “There are few wolves left in Torovan, they kill the farmers’ livestock. The dukes of many regions offer great rewards for wolf pelts. The merchant who brought this cub had just returned from Lenayin. What happened to its mother, I do not know.”
    Alythia ventured cautiously back toward the gate. The second soldier stood aside, with a questioning look to his companion. Alythia ignored them, and peered over the gate. The wolf now huddled in a far corner, mostly invisible in the dark. A Lenay wolf. She'd heard them howling, once or twice, when she'd visited Baen-Tar town nearer the forest at the bottom of Baen-Tar hill. Now it was here, chained in a Petrodor mansion, where no Lenayin wolf had any business being.
    Strangely, she found herself recalling a silly argument her wild brat sister Sashandra had had with their brother Damon upon one of her rare visits to Baen-Tar many years ago. “They don't attack people, Damon!” Sashandra had insisted, as loudly as always. “That's a Verenthane myth! They might eat you once you're already dead, but they're scared of people, mostly. They'll only attack if they're scared and cornered, or if they're protecting their cubs!” Sashandra might have been a crazy, selfish tomboy, but she certainly knew animals.
    Scared. She'd walked into its enclosure, a stranger in the dark. Those snarling teeth, those laid-back ears…they'd certainly scared her well enough, but it'd been the wolf who'd been terrified first. Perhaps it had cause to be terrified. Perhaps it had learned to be. Now it huddled in the dark, beaten, bruised and chained.
    “Perhaps,” said the small, dark voice in the back of her head, “in a few more years, that will be you.”

     
    The narrow path climbed steeply up a flight of crumbling stairs, then took a sharp turn past a garden wall. Sasha moved quietly in Rhillian's wake, hoping she could be half as quiet as the graceful serrin. Errollyn followed and Aisha brought up the rear, their blades drawn. The alley narrowed, then opened and suddenly there was a marvellous view of the harbour, and light enough to see the path clearly. The three serrin and Sasha pressed close to an uphill wall, and the protective shadow. Directly below were people's yards, small vegetable gardens. From here, agile people could climb onto roofs, run along walltops, and into