The Riddle - Alison Croggon [121]
“This is Claw, my leader,” said Dharin, as the biggest dog shook off the snow that had curled around it and bounded up to him, its tail wagging like a puppy. Maerad had steeled herself to follow Dharin into the pen, not wanting to be thought a coward, and flinched; this close, the dog was something out of some of her worst nightmares. The dog’s face was almost level with Maerad’s, even as it stood on four legs before her. Its canine teeth were as long as her fingers. She could feel the dog’s hot breath puff past her face as Dharin briefly stroked Claw’s ears. The dog gave a short bark and Maerad jumped.
“Do they frighten you, Mara?” said Dharin, turning quickly. “You must not show them your fear; they can smell it, and it makes them afraid. Claw, down.” The dog instantly lay down on the snow, looking up at Dharin alertly, waiting for his next move or command. “Claw is the best dog in Zmarkan,” he said proudly. “I have had many offers for her, but I would as soon sell my own soul. And all these”— he waved at the rest of the team — “are her puppies. I have always kept the best. It makes a good team; there are no fights on my trips. Well, not serious fights, anyway.”
Maerad nodded, her heart in her mouth. How was she to keep the dogs from knowing she was afraid? One snap from those formidable jaws would break her neck. She could use the Speech, perhaps, but she dared not; if it was impossible to lie in the Speech, it would be impossible to conceal her fear.
Dharin disappeared inside the shed, leaving Maerad looking at the dogs. They ignored her, obviously having decided she was harmless. They all stood up, their ears erect, watching the doorway. Soon Dharin emerged carrying a side of meat, which he threw to the ground. The dogs instantly pounced on it, snarling and yapping at each other, and Maerad backed away nervously. She could hear their jaws crunching on the bones. The flesh looked very red on the white snow.
“They are hungry,” said Dharin, who seemed unfussed by what to Maerad looked like terrifying and threatening behavior. “They are fed every two days; they do not need to eat more often. And they are spoiling for exercise. They are the only creatures that do not enjoy rest.” To Maerad’s relief, they left the pen, although Dharin remarked indifferently that his dogs could leap the high fence if they really wanted to. “Sometimes dogs will jump into another team’s pen, and that is not a good thing. Not my team, but others less obedient. It makes people very angry; you can lose a good dog that way.”
Maerad shuddered. Dharin’s dogs were more frightening than any dogs she had ever seen. And it seemed she would have to travel with them for weeks.
“Are they wolves?” she asked, thinking that her silence had drawn out for too long.
“Not all wolf. Part wolf, and half wild still. Like all wild things, they must be treated with respect.” Then Dharin noticed Maerad’s white face.
“Mara, they are good beasts,” he said earnestly. “Even if you are afraid of them, they know that you are under my protection, and they will not hurt you. I am the boss dog.”
“I saw a man killed by dogs once, when I was a child,” she said. “I used to have nightmares about it.”
Dharin looked at her thoughtfully. “That is a terrible thing. But it was not my dogs who did that.”
“No,” she said. It was no use trying to explain her fear; it wasn’t as if it were rational. “But if I can’t stop being afraid, I can be a little brave, can’t I? If you promise they won’t bite me.”
“When you are with me, they will not touch you,” said Dharin.
“Well, I’m not going near them otherwise,” she said.
“Well, then, we will be all right,” he answered. He looked up at the sky, which was still swirling with snow. “I somehow do not think that we will be riding horses to Tlon,” he said. “This snow does not look as if it is going to stop.”
“It’s the Winterking,”