The Wolf and His Boy

     In the days when fairies, nymphs, goblins and the like walked openly in this world, a cry  came out of the forest surrounding the pleasant village of Dirthhaven. As the good people listened they recognized the wail of a child in despair. But since the populace knew those woods to be enchanted no one dared venture to find the source of the cries except for the elderly Widow Tegwin. She discovered a boychild of no more than three or four winters. The boy, dressed in rags, spoke no words the kind lady could understand. Touched by his distress she gathered the child into her arms and dried his tears all the while looking around her in search of danger.

     Tegwin brought the lad into her house. Although she had no children of her own and was glad for the lad’s company, she searched the village for one who would provide a permanent situation. “The boy is young and can’t fend for himself.” she said at each door of the village. “He has wandered these woods for some time by the looks of him. It’s a wonder how he has survived at all. He needs a good caring home. I would keep him but have scarcely enough for myself.”

     But alas, the good citizens of Dirthhaven so feared anything from that forest, that she found no one willing to take the boy. And so, for three years, she shared her meager fare with the lad until the day she fell into a swoon from all her labors. Her sister from a neighboring hamlet bore Tegwin away leaving the boy behind.

     Now on his own the boy knocked on every door in Dirthhaven offering to perform small chores for bits of food. In the process he learned various skills, performing divers tasks for the people of the village. In exchange for cleaning his stables the village smithy permitted the lad to sleep there.

     The villagers called him “Boy” for he had no other name. He became a valuable resource  to them. He worked hard performing tasks no one else wanted to do and they saw to it he never went hungry. This arrangement continued for six years until the day Elder Parlan recruited the lad to accompany his family on a trip to the nearby village of Harpin a day’s journey away.

     Boy’s job consisted of tending to tend to the elder’s horses over the course of the trip. The lad walked alongside the ornate coach for there was no room for him to ride with the others. At least, that is what Elder Parlan said when in fact, he did not see the lad as fit company for his children.

     Midway on their journey, still a half day’s ride from their destination and in the deepest part of the forest they encountered a tree across the road. With dense forest on both sides Elder Parlan ordered Boy to remove the obstacle.

     “It’s far too heavy for me to do so alone, sir,” Boy said. “Either you or your sons (Parlan had three–all bigger than Boy) come out to help me or I must have the use of the horses.”

     Parlan stuck his head out of the coach and looked at the tree, the dark woods, and Boy. Being not too fond of menial tasks and suspicious of this forest, he said, “You and my driver unhitch the horses and be quick about it. I and my family must be in Harpin by suppertime.”

     No sooner had Boy and Hatch, Parlan’s driver, loosed the team of four horses, than fifty of the ugliest goblins ever seen, sprung from the trees. Boy could do nothing against the attackers who stood as tall as men. He could only watch as the fiends pulled the Elder and his family out of the carriage and carried them away into the forest along with Hatch and the horses.

     Boy stared. Why did they leave me behind?

     As if he had heard the lad’s thoughts the leader of the marauders returned to stand before the boy. “You look like a sturdy lad,” he croaked. I daresay you’d make a better worker than these fancies from the coach. But you are protected, and so I let you go.”

     Boy stepped toward the especially large goblin. “What do you mean ‘protected’? Who protects me?”

     But he received no answer. The fiend turned and disappeared in the direction of his cohorts.

     The shrieks and screams of the retreating goblins and their captives faded. The boy sat in the middle of the road mulling over his next course of action. The distance to Harpin remained a half day’s journey the same as back to Dirthhaven. By the time he reached either of those destinations the goblins would have ample opportunity to carry their captives to the far reaches of the forest.

     Boy shook his head. I can go back where I am safe but what about the others? I can’t just leave them with those fiends. There’s nothing I can do but follow. If I know where my companions are taken, I can perhaps then go for help providing nothing has been done to harm them.

     He struck out in the direction in which he last heard the shrieks and screams, but goblins are not easily followed. Being in nature fallen fairies, they are light on their feet leaving few tracks to follow. Boy did the best he could under the circumstances until the sun set. Once again he sat. This time dark overtook him. He shivered listening to every sound of the forest. He had heard stories about the creatures that dwelt there including, dragons and wild beasts, the worst of which were wolves whose howls drowned out all else.

     Boy spent a fitful night, and in the morning he saw wolf tracks all around where he had slept. Next to him lay a freshly killed rabbit. He thought, I wonder why the wolves did not attack. And this coney…why did they leave it? Well, I’ve enough of my wits to not let it go to waste.

      He gathered dead wood for a fire as well and collecting herbs he made himself breakfast before continuing on his trek. However, he found fewer clues to guide him than he had discovered the day before. At midday he collapsed in despair. Not only had he lost the goblins’ trail he himself had become hopelessly lost.

     After that, Boy wandered the forest for three days. Each morning he saw more wolf tracks and a freshly killed rabbit. Comforted by food he still remained discouraged. These woods appeared to have no end.

     At noon time on the third day, he encountered a huge hungry brown bear in a small clearing. While he looked for a tree where he could escape the snarling beast he remembered that bears can climb them too. Boy froze. As he did so, a pack of wolves emerged from the surrounding trees and stood between him and the bear. Their deep growls drowned out the bear’s snarls. The faceoff lasted only a minute until the bear backed off and slunk away. The largest of the wolves turned and walked to within three feet of the boy.

     Boy spread out his arms. “Okay, mister wolf. I guess you wanted to eat me more than the bear did.”

     The wolf tilted his head, his ears straight. “Why would I want to do that? I’ve been watching over you these three nights and each morning brought you a fresh coney on which to feed.”

     Boy shook his head. “You speak man’s speech? No, wait. I hear the growls of a wolf. How is it I can understand you?”

     “That’s because I found you in the woods many years ago. Your family had been taken by goblins as now have been your companions. You learned our speech as I raised you from not much more than a pup. We called you Fergas. I and my pack provided for you. As you grew older, we even found clothing left behind by unfortunate victims of marauders that lurk about. When you were old enough to return to your own kind I left you on the outskirts of a man settlement with the thought that they could care best for you. However, I see you received no better treatment as these people have reduced you to a servant fulfilling their every whim. This need not be. Come live with us again and be free.”

     “Nay,” said the boy in wolf’s speech. “I remember you now. You are Narvis. But you were right to leave me at the village. I do belong with my own kind.”

     “Narvis raised his head. “Then I’ll show you the way out of this forest.”

      Boy/Fergas shook his head. “I must find my friends even though they sorely use me and would not call me such.”

     Narvis let out a tremendous howl. “Then I will lead you to the goblins’ lair, but we will not be alone. All the wolfkind in this forest will come to our aid.”

     It came to pass late that afternoon that Fergas, Narvis and an army of wolves stood before the mine the goblins possessed deep in that forest. The fiends had set their captives to mining coal to feed their unending fires. Parlan and his family were not alone. Many other captives worked alongside them.

    The wolves gave out a collective howl that shook the foundations of the forest. 

     The vastly outnumbered goblins stared in disbelief. Having lost most of their powers when they ceased being fairies they knew they could not withstand such a force. They sent out their captives hoping the wolves preferred man-flesh over that of goblins. As the men women and children came out of the cave, Fergas turned to his protector and said, “The horses too. We must have the horses to pull the carriage back to the village.”

     And so it happened that Parlan and his family returned to Dirthhaven, giving accolades to the boy who had rescued them. They offered him much reward and a place at their family table, but Fergas declined. “Most of the people we freed remain in the forest with no place to go. I belong with them. I and my wolf friends will look out for them.

     The lad, Fergas, returned to the forest where he became the leader of the newly freed people. Among them he found his own father and mother from whom he had been separated so many years before. With the help of the wolves, Fergas and his people drove out the wicked things lurking in those woods and made a home for themselves that rivaled any in the open lands.