The werewolf nodded, exaggerating the motion as if he were unsure Nathan would recognize it. When he grinned, Nathan thought the werewolf was just as relieved as he was.

“Five frozen hells,” Nathan sighed, swinging out of the saddle. “Lee, man, I could hug you right now.”

Lee teetered a step backwards, stiff-legged and shaking himself, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Did you eat a clown on your way? I know what I look like. You going to turn human so we can talk, or are we going to do the whole mime thing?”

Lee wagged his tail, but didn’t turn.

Nathan leaned heavily onto his spear. “Suit yourself. How’s the girl?”

A full body shrug.

“Right.” Nathan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His bad leg hurt, and he really, really wanted a break. “Where did you mean to take your new friends? Eoforwic? Deva?”

Neither one got a clear response, so he tried: “Did you have a plan yet?”

Lee looked over his shoulders, then shook his head.

“I see. Morgulon and the cubs are in Deva, Pierre and his pack are at Windish, right outside. If you do go to Eoforwic, I reckon they’ll ship you down there, anyway. We only have a token staff at Brines right now,” he added. “Laurent is there, though, so if you want to test the waters, it’s not a bad call.”

Lee looked over his shoulder again, then stepped forwards far enough to poke his nose into Nathan’s shoulder.

“Sorry? Oh, what about me?”

Lee and several of the new werewolves nodded.

“Ah yes. I need to figure that out myself. I was sent out here to deal with a spreader which may or may not exist but I’m pretty sure isn’t standing between your lot right now. I got Big Bart and Little Roy hanging around in the area, so I need to keep them out of trouble, and I need to sort out a village that may or may not have murdered a man in cold blood when he protected a newly bitten werewolf.”

And now he also had to deal with a pack of nine werewolves unaccustomed to civilization.

Those should probably take priority, right? Couldn’t risk letting them walk into Deeshire’s more conservative quarters unguarded?

But he still didn’t know who had bitten the girl, and having a spreader roam the area unchallenged probably wouldn’t look good in the papers, either?

“You don’t happen to know if there really is a spreader around, do you?” he tried.

All he got in answer were a lot of shaking heads.

“Well, it was worth a try.”

Spreader first or pack first? Or go to the village first, sort out a bunch of murderers?

And how many of the attackers had the girl bitten?

His head and leg ached. Maybe rest first was the way to go?

The werewolves looked at him expectantly, and the only thing he knew for sure was that he was tired and hungry.

What would David want him to do if he were here? Probably rest first. The last thing you wanted was to fall asleep in the saddle in a forest infested with werewolves. Even if they were nice werewolves, what would that look like?

And afterwards…

He turned to Bairn, and began to take the saddle off, which surprised Lee so much he staggered into his human form. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking a nap. I bet the girl is tired, too. The hunters who were after her have really shitty provisions, but if you want some of it, be my guest.”

“You’re going to take a nap. Right here. Right now.”

Nathan shrugged. “I’ve been up all night, cut me some slack. Want me to make a fire first?”

Lee looked over his shoulder, nodded. “We’ve got some meat,” he said. “A fire would be good. You got any spare clothes?”

“I dropped all my stuff in a field back that aways,” Nathan replied. “Haven’t searched all the saddle bags of the other horses yet.”

Lee turned around once more, probably to confer with the rest of the group. Some of the werewolves retreated when Nathan produced a lighter and cinder for the fire. They came back before he had even started building the fire in earnest, and there was a tension in the air, a current, something he couldn’t quite name, as the werewolves transformed around him all at once. They searched the saddles and found clothes enough to get everyone’s unmentionables covered, the girl almost vanishing in a white men’s shirt.

Only Lee turned wolf again.

Nathan blinked after him as the lone wolf loped off in what looked like a hurry. “Where’s he going?”

He didn’t really expect an answer, so he jumped when an older man settled down at the wood he had piled up. Somewhere in his later fifties, Nathan guessed, maybe early sixties. He couldn’t tell if the stranger’s hair was turning naturally grey or if that was due to him being a werewolf. His eyes were large and animal-shaped, with no white showing.

“Getting your stuff, isn’t he?”

“Well, that’s awfully kind of him.”

“Your horse is hurt.”

“Yes. One of the bastards that was after the girl shot him. She’s all right, yes? She was screaming when I got there.”

The older man nodded slowly. “Probably had some fun with her before killing her. Nothing silver, though. Monroe’s the name.”

“Nathan Feleke.”

“Related to the two Feleke brothers?”

Nathan paused. “The two… Who? No wait. Sun, I’m tired. You’re talking about Bram and Gregory Feleke, right? Bram’s my father. Damn, you’ve been a werewolf for a long time if you remember uncle Gregory. He’s been dead for, oh, twenty years now.”

“They had just taken over the family business when I got bitten.”

Nathan paused, struggling with the maths. “Uh. Thirty-six years? Round about?”

The elder shrugged. “Sounds about right. Didn’t really keep track of the years.”

“Thirty-six years in summer,” a new voice said. A woman settled down next to Monroe. She was tiny, slender, probably of a similar age as he. Her skin was only a little bit lighter than Nathan's own.

“Malinda,” she said. “Thirty-five this summer. Took him a year to come back to me.”

“My wife,” Monroe added. “I bit her.”

“I asked him to.”

Nathan had to remind himself to close his mouth. Now this, this, the papers would love. Talk about a romance for the ages.

“Is this your pack? Family?”

The two of them shook their heads. “It was just us,” she replied.

“I was a hunter,” Monroe added. “In this area, actually. Nothing like your family, but I had managed to make a bit of a name for myself. Packs in the forest didn’t receive me too warmly.”

“So we went far, far north.”

“Morgulon came to find you?” Nathan asked.

“In the middle of a snowstorm, six years ago,” Malina replied. “I hear that’s late.”

“Couldn’t speak to that,” Nathan yawned. “Glad Lee could drag you back. We can certainly use the help.”

He finally got his fire going. When the flames licked at the tip of his wood pile, Monroe and Malinda shifted uncomfortably. But they apparently had one last question.

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“Lee says Morgulon had children?”

“Yes. Five cubs.” Nathan couldn’t stop himself from adding: “From at least two fathers.”

Malinda sighed. “Any chance we’ll get to see them?”

“Don’t know. Don’t see why you wouldn’t, though.” He yawned again. “Bet you’re gonna end up at Deva sooner rather than later anyways.”

“Aren’t you the one taking us there?”

Nathan rubbed his eyes. “Do I look to you like I’m in charge of making the important decisions? Like, yeah, I might end up taking you to wherever you end up going. Not my call, though. If I were the one making decisions, we’d all retreat across the Argentum Formation, drop a body into every river, let the Rot-queens sort the loyalists out.”

His yaws cracked in another yawn. “Fire’s ready, guys. Don’t let it go out, I’m going to sleep. Somebody wake me at noon.”

The werewolves stared and whispered as he checked on Bairn’s injury—not that he could do anything for the stallion—and made sure that the new horses were tied up so they could graze, before resting his head on the saddle in the grass.

Nathan didn’t hear what they said. As soon as his eyes closed, he was asleep.

***

The pack was still around when hunger woke Nathan right around noon. That was nice. He had been a bit worried, but he had hoped that having a hunter go to sleep right in their middle would be novel enough to make them stick around.

Even better, they were kind enough to share some of their meat around. It was a bit burned in places, and lacked seasoning. Lee grumbled a bit about running into the only Feleke who didn’t bring salt on hunts—which was news to Nathan. He had thought Andrew was the only one who did that.

He should have brought Andrew. At least then they could have split the blame of him running after the girl on his own.

He still didn’t know her name.

Lee crouched in front of him as he had some cold lunch. “You figure out yet what’s going to happen next?”

“Nope,” Nathan said, relishing the word a little. “So my suggestion is you all come with me to the building site of the railway.”

Lee frowned. “Which railway?”

“The new line north from Deeshire. Where they have a telegraph link in case of trouble.”

“And then we do what?”

“We make it David’s problem. Dump the whole situation on his desk, and wait for him to decide where he wants each of us.”

Lee nodded slowly. “I bet you’re his favourite brother.”

“I absolutely am.”

Right until David learned that he had ditched the circus act. But that was a problem future-him would have to deal with.

Some of the werewolves dithered at the idea of contacting “the Relentless” directly, but Monroe and Malinda were unbothered. They had to have lived really isolated. Either that or they were just really good actors.

Nathan didn’t think so.

Before they got moving, he checked on Bairn again. The wound was hot and a bit swollen, but the stallion didn’t seem feverish yet. Maybe he could find a healer in Deeshire? With the army, perhaps? Or maybe the werewolves could take him to Deva?

He’d have to message David about that, too.

***

The work on the railway had progressed a few miles farther than the line was running. With an injured horse and a child in their group, they still didn’t get there before midmorning the next day. The girl—Rosie—rode the last few miles on the other horse Nathan had taken from the dead hunters.

Maybe he should have ridden ahead: the men working on this side-line weren’t real navvies, nothing like the hardened men working along the Savre. They didn’t even have a werewolf protecting their crew, and there was a moment of wild panic as the large pack broke out of the trees.

Once Nathan had made himself heard over the commotion, they were all too glad to let him use their telegraph—everything that got them all out of their neat little camp.

Not that Nathan and the pack were moving anywhere fast. First Nathan had to come up with the most succinct way of summarising what had occured and his options going forwards, then the operator had to send that, and finally, they needed to wait for an answer. Barring some emergency at the palace, Nathan was fairly certain that David would receive the message within a few minutes of him sending it. How long it would take his brother to come to a decision… Well, they’d see.

Not long at all, as it turned out. And they were good orders, too. Short and simple.

“Escort werewolves to Cpt Fletcher afap STOP

Continue spreader investigation STOP

Fletcher and watch to deal with village STOP”

“This is why you’re the boss,” Nathan muttered to himself. It honestly hadn’t occurred to him that it needn’t be him who dealt with the whole mess of the murderous villagers.

Probably shouldn’t be him, in fact.

“All right, gang, Deeshire it is.”

“Deeshire, really?” Lee asked. “Aren’t they a bit, you know…?”

“Backwards? Hidebound? Inquisitorial ass-kissing?”

Lee grimaced, and looked around at the workers. Too late, Nathan remembered that a lot of them probably were from Deeshire.

Ah well. What were they going to do, attack a pack of ten werewolves with their shovels?

“There’s a large recruitment office of the army in Deeshire,” Nathan explained for the werewolves. “Currently attached to that office is a Captain Fletcher. I think you might have met him at Oldstone Castle, Lee. He’s been in charge of the werewolf recruitment this side of the Savre ever since the battle. I’ll take you there, and then he’ll have orders where you’re all supposed to go. It’ll still come down to Eoforwic or Deva, and he’ll make sure you all get there safely.”

“You won’t be coming?”

“No. I’ll take another stab at figuring out if there is—or was—a spreader in the area. From what Rosie told me, we can’t disregard the possibility.”

She had been bitten nearly exactly a month ago, right before half moon, while out late playing with a friend. It was unusual for a spreader to bite one girl and not the other, but not unheard off. And the werewolf had vanished into the dusk.

The main thing that concerned Nathan was that Rosie hadn’t heard of any further attacks in the area recently. Nothing had happened until Rosie had tried to defend her grandparents. That bit was damn weird.

Unless there were more unsanctioned hunters in the area? Unless the villages had hushed up a spreader so they wouldn’t need to bother with a crown warrant?

What a bloody foolish risk to take though.

Well, he’d find out.

“What about the village?” Lee asked. Rosie’s story hadn’t been well-received.

“Captain Fletcher and the watch get to deal with that. I guess they might need your testimony, Rosie. They might need you to tell them what happened,” he added, since she looked at him blankly.

She didn’t look thrilled. “Told you,” she pointed out.

“Yes, and—” He tried to scrape together his half-remembered lessons. He had hated all that legal crap. “It might be enough,” he caved. “I don’t know. Just, don’t be surprised if they ask you again.”

The workers were still eying the pack warily. The werewolves were expectantly looking up at Nathan, which was disconcerting in a very different way. He didn’t want to be in charge of these many people.

“David wrote that we should get moving as fast as possible,” he told them. “So I’d say we walk for another hour, have lunch, and hopefully we’ll catch a train to Deeshire in the afternoon?”

Nobody protested, so he took point, out of the little camp, along the route the workers had cleared. Nathan thought some of the werewolves looked uneasy at the destruction of the forest all around, but they did follow him. Followed him all the way to the end of the working line and the platform there. The few travellers waiting there screamed at the sight of the pack, and most ran away.

“Ignore them,” Nathan said. “More room on the train for us.”

“I’m sure glad you aren’t in charge of public relations,” Lee teased.

Nathan laughed. “Nobody in my family is that crazy. Hells, Duke Stuard isn’t that crazy. And let me tell you, he’s plenty crazy.”

“Aren’t we all supposed to be working for him?”

“Nah, we’re the lucky few. You and I and the rest of the werewolves are working for David, and he gets the unenviable job of filtering the crazy for us. Which is why you lot aren’t being recruited for a battalion of werewolf cavalry, wielding guns with silver bayonetts, or whatever it was the duke imagined.”

Was he allowed to say this? But he didn’t really care right now. He was standing still again, and he hated that. He wanted to be moving.

“You’re joking, aren’t you?” Lee asked.

“Nope. Werewolf cavalry, armed with silver. I guess the duke thought you wouldn’t be able to fight properly without a rider, or something. David shot the idea down, so don’t worry about it.”

“And you’re allowed to talk about that?” Lee asked.

“Why wouldn’t I? That’s what the duke hired David for, after all. As an expert in werewolves.”

“You don’t think the duke will mind?”

Nathan considered that. The werewolves looked concerned at him. Maybe he had taken this conversation in the wrong direction. He’d tried to diffuse their fears of “the Relentless,” but giving them new nightmares wouldn’t help.

“You mean will he mind that I called him crazy?” Nathan asked after a moment. “What else would I call a man brave enough to challenge the Empire? He might’ve even made a decent hunter.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that compliment,” Lee said dryly.

Nathan restlessly stepped from one foot onto the other. He wanted a bed. A proper bath. To take off the peg leg and treat the skin to some of the doctor’s ointments. Or failing all that, he wanted to be back in the forest. With Bairn healthy and hale, not a borrowed horse he had known for all of two days, with the bloody circus act as his only backup. Chasing a spreader. Or possibly something even worse.

A spreader didn’t often bite one girl and leave the other one unmolested. And a spreader never ever just vanished into the woods—west of Northwold, maybe. Out in the mountains. But not here, not where there were so many other villages around. They weren’t that smart, and that wasn’t what they did.

He sat down on the bricks forming the plattform. They needed to have seating at these things. Maybe some shade. Like the big stations did. A store would be nice. His water bottle was empty again.

Hopefully, Captain Fletcher would have more provisions for him at Deeshire. Otherwise, he’d have to waste time buying stuff.

Finally, the train arrived. The werewolves were nervous about entering, and Lee asked about tickets. Nathan shrugged. “The army will take care of it.”

He hoped so, at least. He hadn’t really considered that issue.

One especially brave conductor walked up to the cattle wagon the werewolves had climbed into, demanding they buy tickets. Nathan showed him the telegram David had sent instead. Apparently, that sufficed to let them ride for free, though the conductor returned at Deeshire, as if worried they wouldn’t get off the train. Or maybe to quench the rising panic? Not everyone reacted well to the werewolves disembarking.

Once again, Captain Fletcher was waiting for them. With great foresight, the officer had brought the manpower to both clear a path for the werewolves and make sure nobody fell into the tracks or got trampled. As Fletcher greeted Lee, a Corporal dealt with the conductor and their fares. And yes, they had more supplies for Nathan. They took Bairn of his hands, too.

Suddenly, all he had to do was settle down in one of the comfortable seats in front of the little café that belonged to the station, and wait for the train that would take him back north. His replacement horse—the fitter gelding of the hunters he had killed—was waiting in a rented box with fresh water and oats. Nathan instead had tea—like every other place in Loegrion, the café didn’t sell any actual coffee. He flipped through the pages of the folder Fletcher had provided, but there was nothing in there that told him what he was getting into.

He let his head fall back and napped a little.