The Way of the Ram Page 4

  After another few seconds of silence, Swill reached for the tool. “I’m sorry.”

  “What are they going to do with him?”

  “I don’t know,” Swill confessed. “But I have a family. I must obey the warden. I’ll try to make this quick.”

  The drill spun, and a second later Mauler let out the screams he was hiding from Guz.

  Chapter 12

  Healer shooed Swifter and Dr. Gobb out of the clinic early and shut it up like a bomb shelter. He turned off every light and closed the blinds in every window.

  He paced in darkness until after sunset. He was expecting the ring of the doorbell, but it still almost made him jump out of his wool. He opened the front door.

  Boxer snickered, wrinkling his nose. “You stink of a guilty conscience. You up to no good?”

  Healer nodded to him and then looked at the other man standing on his porch. “I’m surprised you came.”

  Caper cocked an eyebrow. “Are you? You said it was important.”

  “Well, that’s true.” Healer stepped back to allow them inside, shutting and bolting the front door behind him. “Feel free to look around.” He let them examine the rooms and equipment while he busied himself double-checking that the first floor was locked down. A few minutes later, they convened again in the middle of the main gym.

  “This is a fine facility, Healer,” Caper said at last. “You were right. You have accomplished a lot without needing to finish a University education. You should be proud.”

  Healer shrugged. “I could have done better than to leave things on a bad note. It’s clear to me that I would have left the school and struck off on my own eventually, but I should not have made that decision in anger.”

  Caper shook his head. “Should you decide to come back and finish your education, or if you need more credentials to do your work here, my door is open.”

  “Thank you. It really is good to see you, old man.”

  Boxer rolled over on his back. “Enough of the crying and hugging, girls. Healer, you were a nervous wreck when you answered the door. And you shut the place up like you’re expecting a hurricane. Give us the good stuff.”

  Healer glanced over his shoulder at the door, then leaned in close. “The Megatropolis is not holding up its end of the bargain.”

  Caper sighed. “Tell us.”

  “I first became suspicious a year ago when the bank manager, Slog, demanded I make some concessions before signing off on the loan for this clinic. First, obviously, I had to go on television and repudiate my father’s actions and my own. Second, they wouldn’t let me provide counseling services myself. I had to use a qualified psychiatrist. One of theirs.”

  “We saw the pig during your broadcast.”

  “The only reason he’s here is to make sure I’m not causing trouble. He doesn’t do his job. He tosses out medications to my patients. Sad or angry about your injury? Here’s some Vexylam. Flashbacks? Try a Dopemol.” Healer sagged, rubbing his face with his hooves. “And I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement that prevents me from talking about anyone’s condition, even generally. That way, I can’t talk about all the knife wounds, malnourishment, or psychological trauma coming from the quarry.”

  Boxer flipped over onto his belly so he could read Healer’s expression. “Scurvert is still at it.”

  “That’s what I think too. Even then, I kept talking myself out of it.” Healer took a deep breath. “But there was one thing that kept gnawing at me. See, I’ve been sending letters to our imprisoned friends every two weeks or so. After months of not hearing back, I finally caved. I sent the Flaxers to sneak into the Megatropolis and check on them.”

  “And?” Caper leaned forward, riveted.

  “The prison has been blocking my letters. The birds just brought them all back unopened. And what’s more, Mauler is being tortured. Mrs. Flaxer said he’s hardly alive. That’s why these pigs feel free to go back to their old ways. No one can stop them.”

  Caper leaned back, scratching his cheek. “Perhaps not directly, but this is all useful information.”

  “That’s why I brought you two in. You have public sway that I don’t have yet. I’m hoping that building up this clinic’s reputation will help me get there.”

  “I have no doubt,” Caper said. “We will do what we can. The number of birds demanding the release of their Prophet grows by the day.” The owl turned thoughtful. “Which reminds me. You know, there’s someone else who might want to know how Ponder and Mauler are doing. Do you want us to keep this to ourselves, or…?”

  Healer shook his head. “It’s alright. I’ll tell her.”

  Chapter 13

  Dreamer took an appreciative sip from her cup of hot tea. The warmth made for a welcome contrast to the chilly morning at this outdoor café.

  Who am I kidding? It’s not that cold. It’s my nerves. Well, at least he’s as jittery as I am.

  Assuring herself with a private little smile, she looked over her cup and waited for the sheep across the table to speak.

  Healer cleared his throat. “Thanks for meeting me.”

  “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

  “I think you already know.”

  “I do, but I want to hear it in your words anyway.”

  Healer drank from a tall glass of ice water. “I thought you might want to know how Ponder and Mauler are doing.”

  “Did you hear from them?”

  “No. Not for lack of trying. I sent the Flaxers to check in. Turns out that none of the letters I sent them over the past year and a half ever made it. They were all bundled up in the warden’s office… unopened.”

  Dreamer set her cup down. “That’s terrible, but I’m not surprised. Anyway, that’s not what you wanted to tell me.”

  Healer frowned. “Well, that’s part of it. I can’t talk too much about what I see at the clinic, but suffice it to say the pigs aren’t holding up their end of Ponder’s bargain.”

  “I figured that out too. I’ve been back to visit my dad several times. We probably laid eyes on most of Scurvert’s victims before you ever did.”

  “Right. Mrs. Flaxer also said Mauler’s being tortured. To erase the threat Ponder made.”

  Dreamer fidgeted with the teacup. “What are you going to do?”

  “I think I’m going to write one more letter. I’ll see if the Flaxers can smuggle it directly into their cell. Ponder deserves to know. Other than that… I told Caper and Boxer everything I could. They’re in a better position to act on this than I am.”

  Dreamer looked at him, surprised. “That doesn’t sound like the Healer I used to know. Or the Snapper, for that matter.”

  “I’m doing what my father wanted me to do. My clinic isn’t perfect, but I’m helping people out within the system. Maybe later I’ll take a more public stance, but that’s a losing proposition at this point. My criminal record may have been wiped clean, but they still know who I am and what I’ve done. As hard as it was, I made the decision not to get personally involved. I need to be putting all my effort into building up my clinic’s reputation and mine.”

  She blinked. “I thought I knew what you were here to say. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “I know.”

  “Here I was, thinking you’d be angry at me forever for choosing not to fight back anymore.”

  Healer’s expression hardened. “I was never angry with you. You did the right thing for yourself. You’re not cut out for what I was doing back then. I should never have dragged you into that mess to begin with.”

  “Well…” Dreamer faltered. “Now I’m learning something new.”

  “You were right to choose to take advantage of the reprieve Ponder gave us, as false and short as it may be. I didn’t understand that before. I do now.” Healer looked away for a minute. “Would you like to come see the clinic some evening this week?”

  Dreamer took another sip to quell the sudden fluttering in her chest. “Yes. I would like that very much.”

  Cha
pter 14

  “Hey, there they are,” Boxer called across the Tooth & Claw martial arts gym with a smile.

  Healer gave a nod as he came through the front door, kicking dirt off his hooves before stepping onto the mat. Swifter followed just behind. Scattered around the room, the dozen dogs and four sheep paused their training to greet the two arrivals. Healer waved to Ledger, Berger, Tuxer, and the shepherd brothers.

  Already tired from a long day of exercising with patients, Healer and Swifter sat on the mat to stretch before jumping into the sparring activities.

  “Remember, four feet on the ground!” Boxer bellowed in his coaching voice as he walked among the trainees. “The dog who ends up on his back dies!”

  Healer noticed, not for the first time, his fellow sheep’s difficulty in keeping traction on the mat. Difficulty that dogs, with their claws, did not have.

  He thought of his evening in the quarry when he had asked Dreamer’s father, Shiver, to give him some pointers in fighting like a ram. Shiver had rejected this request, of course, for many of the same reasons that Old-Timer himself had never taught Healer to fight. Chief among these had been Healer’s lack of horns as well as the pointlessness of sheep fighting anyone at all. That, and Shiver just didn’t like him.

  I shouldn’t be complaining. The very fact that any sheep have become interested in defending themselves is astounding progress. All the same, Boxer’s doing good work—the best he can—but sheep would be better off learning to fight like sheep.

  He stood. “What are we doing today?”

  “Throws,” Boxer replied. “Remember the proper grip. Hold the shoulder with the teeth. Trip with a foreleg.”

  Swifter rolled his eyes. “I can’t hold on tight enough with my teeth to pull these moves.”

  “Me neither. Let’s just roll with it and see if we can figure out something that works.”

  The two sheep stepped in, but never got to start.

  “Good evening.”

  The deep voice, inappropriately loud even in this noisy building, froze everyone in their tracks.

  An enormous dog had walked into the gym. Pointed ears and pale eyes scanned the group. His grey-brown coat shone as he paced onto the mat, the expensive gold medallion on his chest glimmering.

  Healer had not seen General Pincher since leaving the shrine of Karkus, but the intervening year and a half had not changed the general in the slightest.

  Pincher stared, nostrils flaring as he took a long breath. “The Healer. Up until this moment, I was impressed with your work. I had thought you were trying to conform. Yet here you are, still spending time with traitors. I’m disappointed.”

  Healer cocked an eyebrow. “How’s your back?”

  Swifter snorted. He had heard the story. Pincher’s eyes flicked to him, and he stifled his laugh. His expression turned to shame and fear. He stepped back and averted his gaze from the dog commander.

  At that moment, Boxer reached them, head low, ears pinned back, teeth bared. “What do you want, Pincher?”

  “Send these sheep out of here. I want to speak with you about something that concerns dogs only.”

  “I’m going to tell them what you said anyway.”

  Pincher rolled his eyes. “I came to offer an olive branch.”

  A stir traveled through the dogs. Everyone looked to Boxer, who returned the general’s steady gaze.

  “Why? What’s your angle?” the chestnut dog deadpanned.

  “There’s no angle, Boxer. I’d rather have you and these men under my command than not. I’ve had some time to think. Karkus spoke. The damage is done. Dogs have become openly rebellious. We need unity. What better way to accomplish that than for you and I to reconcile?”

  “That’s real touching, Pincher, but I won’t accept your command. It isn’t legitimate. We all know that.”

  The silence in the gym crackled with tension like a storm cloud. All the dogs exchanged glances. Healer grew aware of soft whispers toward the back of the room.

  “Is he going to challenge?”

  “Boxer would be a great commander.”

  “Shut up,” Boxer barked over his shoulder. “I’m not going to challenge Pincher.” He returned his look to the older wolf. “I’m still holding out hope that you’ll see reason. You’re a great leader. If only you’d turn away from the trappings of pig power and guide these dogs for real. Nothing could stop us.”

  Pincher shook his head. “You’re utterly misguided, Boxer. I’ve tried to get you to stop this ‘martial arts for everyone’ crusade for years. I’ve tried to bring you back into the fold. I’ve forgiven your insubordination as a tolerant father would. But it’s going to be too late. And sooner than you think. Just consider my offer.”

  “Sure, Pincher.”

  Shaking his head, the general turned and exited the facility. Boxer stared after him for a few minutes.

  Healer came to his side. “What did he mean, ‘it’s going to be too late?’ Does he know something?”

  Boxer shrugged. “He’s always been bombastic. I wouldn’t worry about it. Let’s get back to what we were doing.”

  Healer put it aside and squared up to wrestle with Swifter, but Pincher’s words replayed in his head for the rest of the evening.

  Chapter 15

  Dear Ponder,

  This is something in the realm of my fortieth attempt to contact you. Official channels have failed us, and the volume of letters I have sent you leads me to believe that this is by design. This letter’s unconventional delivery method will get me in trouble anyway if it is discovered, so I will not mince words.

  Any changes wrought by your sacrifice have been superficial at best. Pigs like Scurvert continue to do harm to the population. In my chosen profession, I tend to the injured and traumatized. The volume of knife wounds and dog bites coming in from the quarry is staggering. Every day, I lay eyes on more marks of Scurvert’s sadism.

  When I was younger, there were days when I could put Scurvert out of mind and almost forget the night he attacked my home and killed my dad. Now, I have no choice but to face it multiple times a day. The once distant memories are fresh and raw again. Even now, the sights and sounds of that terrible night haunt my waking eyes.

  It’s funny what the mind can do. I’ve seen Scurvert personally now, spoken with him, even fought with him. I know he claims to be the murderer and enjoys the association with the juggernaut of dog legend, but he’s nothing compared to the killer I saw that night. But who else could it be? How many other two-legged, green-eyed pigs are walking around?

  In the interest of keeping this letter from being entirely negative, I want to end on an encouraging note. There are people who think of you and fight for you. Caper and Boxer, in particular, have not squandered the gift you gave them when you exchanged your freedom for theirs. I wish you could see the demonstrations they’ve held for your release in Fleece City.

  I hold onto the hope that Optera and Karkus will guide you to your purpose and free us all from this madness. Be well.

  Love,

  Healer

  Chapter 16

  “Thank you for reading that,” Ponder rasped.

  “He drew a picture too.” Mauler made slow, tentative movements, pushing himself to his feet. Sudden moves tended to set off fresh rounds of muscle spasms through his body. The chains binding his wrists and ankles gave a grinding rattle as they slid across the rough floor. Holding the paper in one hand, he used his other arm to support himself. Gradually, he crossed the small cell and held the letter up so Ponder could see.

  Healer had included a sketch of a pair of eyes in the top margin of the paper. The eyes were colored with streaks of green and yellow, rimmed with red at the bottom, cruelly narrowed under a heavy brow. The drawing was only superficially similar to Scurvert’s real eyes.

  “Bless him, he must have been terrified,” Ponder whispered.

  Mauler grunted in agreement. The letter slipped out of his shaking hand and settled on the floor. He began a lab
orious crouch to retrieve it, sending sharp aches through the shaven, bandaged spots where they had drilled into his head and bones.

  “Just leave it,” Ponder said.

  “They could come at any minute.”

  She laughed. “I am not sure it matters anymore.”

  Mauler’s heart skipped. He stared at her. “You’ve given up? It was your strength that kept me going all this time.”

  Since no one but Mauler himself ever moved her from her spot in the corner, a coat of dust had settled into the intricate feather textures carved into Ponder’s wooden body. He had never noticed until just now, but the luster of her black eyes had faded, as if she had developed cataracts.

  “Something has changed,” she mused. “I was so sure that Optera and Karkus had this situation well under control. I was content to wait this out with you by my side. But the events of the past year have weakened my resolve.”

  Mauler crumpled the letter in his palm and eased himself to the floor next to her. “You mean… what’s been done to me?”

  “Yes. All of it. I have struggled to understand how Karkus could create you and then just idly watch as the pigs electrocute you and take organ and brain samples. I knew that the draining of your strength would nullify the threat you presented and the leverage you gave me. But I held on. You kept me strong. I took comfort in the hope that I had spared Healer and Dreamer from the consequences of helping us.”

  “But now you know otherwise,” Mauler growled. He glared at the ball of paper in his hand. “Your bargain is not being honored. I should have kept my thoughts to myself. Healer too. We’ve dragged you down.”

  “No, Mauler. It is better to know the truth. Even if I am not sure yet if I can bear it.”

  Mauler brought a heavy arm around her and slid her over until she was right up against him. Her body was the same unyielding wood it had always been, but all the same he felt some part of her melting into his embrace. They remained there for several minutes. Or hours. Mauler was never sure anymore. He may have even fallen asleep. At some point, he locked eyes with the piebald warden walking by their cell.