Chapter 14: Chapter 14
I’ll bid my time, waiting
Just as the python does,
Patient and calculating
The prey knows that trouble lurks
Oblivious to where it is coming
But one thing is sure,
No one will see me approaching
- PenaciousShewa
The Rogue Territory is what we can call the opposite universe of the Conscientious Territory. Although both territories are structurally, industrially, and economically developed, there is one distinct factor, and that is the way their governments are run. While the Conscientious Pack is ruled by the Alpha quite alright, theirs is a federal system of government, and every unit has a say. We can see this in two instances.
The first instance is when Milos was injured a few years back, and he was mandated by the pack to stay put in the territory until he has found his Luna and gotten her pregnant. The second is more recent. The doctor had the effrontery to ask Milos to commit infanticide; and the pack advisors summoned him to a meeting, asking him to defend his family and explain how a girl child would grow up to lead the pack. Milos could have had them all beheaded or something, but he chose to remain calm.
The Rogue Territory on the other hand is ruled with an iron hand and its inhabitants live in constant fear. You can be sure of one thing, that Devilio’s little finger will be thicker than his father’s loins, and while his father chastised them with whips, he will do so with scorpions, literally.
It is the wee hours of the morning and Devilio tosses and turns in his bed. He has been at this for the past one hour. He huffs and puffs and growls, looking for his “back-groove”, but he still can’t get some sleep. Although he is tired from the activities of yesterday, he still cannot get the rest that his body needs. Yesterday was hell, as it was his first time at the training ground. He was asked to run up the hill forty times with a two-pound dumbbell in each hand, but he could not even go up the hill more than five times before collapsing. He was asked to do two reps of push-ups, and he could not even survive one. Uncle Gyles keeps reiterating that he has to work hard for the pack, but he knows that the only reason he wakes up everyday and heads for the field is because of this raging desire in him to avenge his father’s cold-blooded murder. He has always wanted to lead the pack at any time, but his father’s death is causing him to grow even before he is ready. All he wants to do is play and hunt, and when it is time to find his mate, he’ll pick his choice and rule the pack anyhow he deems fit.
He stares into the morning until it is 6 am. He groggily walks out of bed and freshens up. In a matter of minutes, he is ready to face the day.
Arrrrrghh!!!!!!
“Good morning, Uncle Gyles” he greets, his eyes reddened from insomnia.
“Morning, son,” Beta Gyles responds, casting a quick glance at him before signaling to one of the warriors to get two ‘special’ buckets ready for Devilio. The latter looks beyond him and sights quite a number of large buckets at the well, all filled with water. Devilio’s buckets are special in the sense that they are small, compared to the other buckets.
“Uncle, what do I need buckets for?” a perturbed Devilio asks, afraid of the answer to his question.
“You’ll see,” is all his Uncle says.
Soon, the buckets are filled with water, and Devilio is asked to watch as the first warrior carries two buckets up the hill and back, without soiling even a drop. He watches with his mouth ajar as the next warrior does the same.
“Devilio, your turn,” his uncle promptly informs him.
“Yes, uncle.” He proceeds to lift the bucket. He goes up the hill with a good start and manages not to spill too many drops of water. His uncle looks on in admiration.
The boy is learning.
He runs down the hill at a high speed, smiling within himself, happy that he has passed this test.
Then, it happens.
Devilio misses a step and loses his balance, and down the hill, he comes. His uncle shakes his head in utter disappointment, and the other warriors do not dare to laugh, though if I were one of them, I would have erupted in peals of laughter, damning the consequences.
It is really a funny sight, I can bet that reading the previous paragraph brings a poem to mind.
Wanna guess? I’ll tell you.
Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.
The only exception here is that Devilio went up the hill alone, and although he came tumbling, he thankfully did not break his crown.
Devilio walks the walk of shame to where his uncle is sitting, clearly downcast. His uncle diffuses the whole situation by walking with him into the woods. Here, he dares his nephew to catch a beaver before he does. An excited Devilio quickly transforms and races for the beaver, but is outrun by his uncle, even though the latter had given him a two-minute head start. They however share the beaver and by this time, the young man is more at ease.
“You know, Devilio, when I look at you, I see a young boy who will turn out to be a fierce leader. Now, that’s good, in fact, that’s exactly who I am training you to become. However, I must explain a few things to you, and your understanding of what I am about to tell you should drive you to rule this pack and claim this territory, and by extension, the Taga Wereforest.
The first thing you should know is the reason for which we are always at war with the Conscientious Pack. Many centuries ago, the wolves of this forest were one. There was neither any division nor demarcation; they all dwelt together as a pack. One day, some wolves revolted and told the other wolves that they were not comfortable with the peaceful government. They wanted something exciting, they wanted to be truly free.
The other wolves tried to convince them to stay but they already had their mind made up. However, before they left, they requested to have the Vanatian sword, which was the joint possession of the pack before our forefathers chose to go rogue. The government of the pack decided not to give the sword to them, and they stormed out of the pack, vowing to come back for it.
“But uncle Gyles, what is so special about this sword?” Devilio asks, his interest peaking with each word that his uncle speaks.
“My dear, the Vanatian sword is the only sword that can kill an Alpha, no matter how strong and powerful he is. Every other weapon will only maim him, but only this sword can deliver that fatal blow, silencing an Alpha forever.”
“Uncle, is that what was used to kill my father?” Devilio asks, knowing the answer to the question he asked.
“Yes,” his uncle replies quietly.
Another thing that you should know is that we go to war as in our wolf form, this is because we have superior war tactics, unknown to anyone else, and this is how we have kept our territory safe from being counted as spoils of war.
“How then are the Conscientious Pack superior to us?”
“Good question, Devilio. For one, they are in possession of the Vanatian sword and, two, they have strong city walls and tight security. We have never succeeded at infiltrating them. Many warriors of ours have been impaled on their high-rise walls while attempting to get into the enemy territory.
As they walk back to the training field, Devilio sheds heart-wrenching tears for his father, and for the soon-to-be departed souls of the wolves of the Conscientious Pack.
Hmmm, I got laughter and goosebumps from reading this chapter. How about you?
Please, let me know what you think in the comments section.