SlenderWolf

---

Previous – Book1 Page76 – Next

---

consumers want it. The Brittania Bridge is now history and the remaining railway line operates only two locomotives between Fflint and Bangor. Hence domestic produce in Meirionydd is often moved around by ship.

“Who wants some gold?” demands BlackDog.

A less than enthusiastic cheer ripples along the quayside, drowned out by the eager shouts from the pirates on the ship’s deck. They’re up for it. Gold, or silver, or bronze!

MickeyWarr’s not joining in, he’s too busy examining the Laurel and Hardy lookalikes. The big one has a wide, black, tricorn hat, and is wearing a loose fitting sackcloth shirt with most of his buttons undone, revealing a hairy chest that’s as tanned as his face. Black baggy trousers are held up with a gold coloured braid instead of a belt. The sort of braid that’s normally reserved for use by senior military officers as lanyards. On his right hip there’s a wide brown leather sheath which appears to contain a long broadsword.

Captain BlackCloud looks at the two newbies standing next to each other, MickeyWarr and SpudGunn. Their behaviour sets them apart from the others.

One is standing impassively still and silent, with a look of concentration on his face. The other shuffles a little on his feet, fidgety, about to chew a fingernail or two, before quickly lowering his hand to his side in a clenched fist. Squeezing his fist too tight SpudGunn now looks like he’s about to cry. Or wet himself!

Stepping forward two more paces, BlackCloud focusses on MickeyWarr, who’s still carefully inspecting his oppressors. A flimsy, lightweight, navy blue waistcoat with gold buttons, fits neatly over BlackCloud’s clean white shirt, with its poncy, frilly collar. The wide, flowing, bell bottom trousers are held in place with a slim black leather belt. And the ornate silver handle of a rapier emerges from the top of a narrow leather scabbard at his left hip.

One step behind the captain is his lieutenant. She’s a little taller than her boss. With her short hair and her slim build she could reasonably be mistaken for a young boy. Is this a young

---

Previous – Book1 Page76 – Next

---

---

Previous – Book1 Page75 – Next

---

trimmed with yellow material that seems to contain flecks of real gold!

Captain BlackCloud steps forward a few paces.

A wiry little man, he stands barely taller than 1 metre 60. He’s accompanied by his fat, ill tempered, ugly first mate, BlackDog. Much taller, and with a bulk about three times the size of the captain.

As BlackDog lumbers forward to stand alongside BlackCloud, MickeyWarr can see that the big man’s weight is affecting his walk. It’s not slow by any means, but it’s not regular either, his right leg seems to be laboured with an exaggerated movement of the hip.

The third officer is quietly standing behind them.

An assortment of other people have assembled on the ship’s deck, and are looking down at the twenty or so sad, pathetic figures lined up on the quayside. MickeyWarr looks at the three officers more closely. The big one could almost be wearing a black cat on his face! His full beard masks much of his face, but a brief, sinister smile reveals a momentary view of his teeth. Just enough to spot that they are blackened after years of neglect.

That’s a distinct contrast to the little fellow. He sports a wispy moustache in the style of a French musketeer, but otherwise he’s clean shaven. His skin is noticeably paler than the others. Clearly this is a man who does not spend all of his time out in the sun.

Even though BlackCloud is the pirate captain he has a natural, calm smile, giving the impression that his nature is not entirely sinister. The smile reveals a brief look at his white teeth, which appear perfect when compared to everybody around him.

“Bronze! Silver! And gold!” bellows BlackDog “that’s what we want! None of that healthy rabbit food we got last time! I’ve had enough lettuce thank you very much!”

The last successful raid hauled in a shipment of various salad stuff, alongside some more welcome things like wine and grapes. Conwy has more of that than they can use, and Amlwch

---

Previous – Book1 Page75 – Next

---

---

Previous – Book1 Page74 – Next

---

Cargos of wool and sheepskin regularly move from Conwy to Douglas, and high quality rum and Manx tea travels in the opposite direction. Occasionally the ships carry gold going north, and zinc or lead or silver on the return trip.

The pirates don’t know what they’ll get until they see the freighters. They might not get anything, but they know that the ships which sit lower in the water are the ones carrying the heavy metals. Even if the cargo is simply sheepskins or rum it’s all valuable and tradeable on the black market.

Given the volume of traffic along the Meirionydd coast the pirates have plenty of opportunities and they know they’ll be lucky sometimes, and seize particularly valuable cargos. Newly minted Sovereigns are the biggest prize. But it’s risky, because the Meirionydd coast is patrolled by the Byddin and their allies, the Garrison, the Sidooryn and the Láigen.

There’s an exchange system in place where personnel from one territory work with another. A detachment of Garrison marines might serve on a Láigen ship for a while. The native services normally use their own languages, although English is common to all of them.

That really helps when there’s a Sidooryn detachment on a Byddin ship for example. Rather than using Manx or Welsh it’s more practical for them all to use English. Which is lucky for the native English speakers who generally struggle with other languages!

On the quayside in Boot, TallyBen has lined up a motley crew of old hands and the involuntary new recruits. Berthed next to them is a dirty, old ship with three masts. The gang plank has been lowered to the quayside, and six people descend. They’re walking with a purposeful stride which conveys the message “we’re in charge here”.

Pausing in the mid distance, they survey the shoddily dressed rabble of misfits. Then come a little closer.

MickeyWarr has already noticed that three of them are carrying swords, and the other three aren’t. That probably means three senior officers, and their juniors. One officer is especially short and has a particularly pompous tricorn hat,

---

Previous – Book1 Page74 – Next

---

---

Previous – Book1 Page73 – Next

---

Chapter 10
Bronze Silver and Gold

“Women are nothing but trouble,” says SpudGunn, “you don’t see many of them here do you? We’re better off with the pirates! No Ambers, no Angels!”

“No freedom either,” says MickeyWarr, failing to see how this encouraging pep talk can in any way be described as encouraging!

SpudGunn continues his preaching, “we weren’t free before! Mr Potato Head has all of Worringfolk under his iron fist.”

“Under his thumb?”

“That’s right. Under his iron thumb! Here it’s the same. It’s different. We help the pirates, not the mob. Then the pirates feed us, clothe us and give us somewhere to sleep. It’s as easy as falling off a piece of cake!”

“Falling off a log?”

“Yeah, that’s it, failing like a frog!”

“I thought you said you wanted to escape, if it’s so much better here, then why don’t you stay?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Too right! We’re clearly not sinking!”

“Is there anybody else here I can talk to?”

SpudGunn was captured two months ago. But he’s so inept that even the pirates don’t like him. Nobody wants him on their ship, so he’s spent most of his time locked up in “The Asylum”. It’s not actually an asylum, it’s the nickname for the stone warehouse on the dockside where the pirates keep the newcomers and the trouble makers.

TallyBen keeps tabs on all the newcomers and he has MickeyWarr earmarked for the next Conwy raid. Like all the new faces, the first test of his worth is normally an interception on the Conwy Douglas route. TallyBen uses that to grade the newcomers and work out which ship to assign them to on a permanent basis.

---

Previous – Book1 Page73 – Next

---

---

Previous – Book1 Page71 – Next

---

“What’s that thing you’re always saying? ‘Must dash’. I’m going to call you ‘Dash’. Sounds nicer than NutJob don’t you think? My special pet name for you.”

NutJob can feel his cheeks warming up. He’s not sure what to say, and he says the first thing that pops into his head, weakly suggesting, “you could call me Dave,” as he tries to suppress the blushing.

His face is clearly turning red, KristalClear notices, but pretends she hasn’t.

She smiles at him tenderly and says, “yes Dash!”

---

Previous – Book1 Page71 – Next

---

---

Previous – Book1 Page70 – Next

---

encourage him to calm down. Realising that her hand is moving she swiftly pulls it back, remembering that she promised herself there would be no physical contact, well not yet anyway.

She studies his face. Bright, beautiful blue eyes, skin looking as soft as silk. His baby face is conspicuous, and like a little boy there is pure joy emanating from his smile. And he has lips which … yes … well of course … he has lips!

Mentally triggering a switch in her head KristalClear desperately wants to halt this train of thought.

Not now, not after an evening of working hard in the stables, she’s tired, she’s dirty and she wants to go home. Most of all, she wants to have a shower and go to sleep. She leans her head a little over to the left, the way that Tolstoy does sometimes, with a hint of a puzzled doggy look.

She looks directly into NutJob’s deep blue eyes. He can see a radiant glow on her face. And his keenness to continue talking has completely vanished.

She’s not just pretty, her smile is sincere, and it’s natural. Her gorgeous long, brown hair, and her charm all add up to making her irresistibly cute! She blinks her chestnut eyes eight times in quick succession. There is absolute silence.

KristalClear is too busy trying to control her own thoughts, and she has no spare capacity to try to tune in to the wavelength right now. How she wishes that she could read humans, and could figure out what NutJob is thinking.

She feels her heart beating a little faster than normal, as she summons up all her courage to speak as normally and as calmly as she can. He mustn’t know what’s going on in her head. Well not yet anyway.

“You’re different,” she says, “in a nice kind of way, always busy with things to do, always have something to say, always in a rush. Never a dull moment!”

She’s about to nervously bite her bottom lip, but she stops herself, and runs her fingers through her hair instead.

---

Previous – Book1 Page70 – Next

---

---

Previous – Book1 Page69 – Next

---

herds of camels roaming free. Until the desert turned to sea when climate change became worse. East Anglia Sands in the North Sea was once habitable land you know!”

“And the first SlenderWolf?” asks NutJob, “the one with a copper coloured eye and a blue eye?”

“That’s all we have time for now. I have things to do,” says Franklin. She gestures towards the clock on the far wall, “and you two should be at work!”

A little intoxicated by Franklin’s talk of wolves, NutJob spends the whole evening chatting about it whilst he and Faraday are assembling custom made alternators. By 21:00 Faraday is happy to show him out and say good night. Stepping through the door he waves good bye and says “must dash”, then gleefully turns for home.

As he joyfully bounces along the cobbled streets he scans every side street, and every doorway, imagining that there’s a wolf watching him.

NutJob soon reaches the crossroads where King Street becomes Broadland High Street. This is where Willowdene Road branches off to the south west, leading to the popular residential corner of Lancaster. If NutJob waits here, looking north west towards the River Lune and the Garrison, there’s a fifty fifty chance that KristalClear will be on her way home about now.

He sees her as she’s approaching Broadland Park High School. Eager to tell her what he’s learnt about Ulverston, he sets off down the hill as she’s walking up.

“Franklin explained,” he exclaims excitedly, “all about the name, and how the wolves came back, and everything!”

Their route home overlaps from here, but only for a few hundred metres. NutJob is trying to make the best use of the short time available, and is effectively dominating the chat.

“You’re very lively tonight,” she says, “did they put too much sugar in your tea?”

Slightly puzzled he says, “I don’t take sugar!”

Instinctively, KristalClear begins to reach out with her right hand intending to place it on NutJob’s left shoulder and

---

Previous – Book1 Page69 – Next

---

---

Previous – Book1 Page68 – Next

---

Which means that Wolves Here Town is not too far from the truth.”

Fascinated, NutJob wants to know more, “and when did the wolves disappear? And when did they come back? And how did they come back?”

“I could talk about this for hours,” says Franklin, “but it’s nearly 18:00 and you two have work to do! All you’re getting right now is a snapshot!”

She goes on to explain that in about 1400AD the last wolf in the British Isles was cornered on a spit of land near Grange Over Sands at the southern tip of the Lake District. Trapped on Humphrey Head, with the sea on three sides, the wolf was killed by a man called John Harrington.

“For thousands of years,” explains Franklin, “ this country had no Eurasian Grey Wolves. Until they were reintroduced into the Scottish Highlands in small numbers, as a carefully controlled scientific experiment. Then the world changed. The Decimation meant that many science projects were abandoned, forgotten, or neglected. The wolves spread out in all directions.”

“At the same time, places known as ‘zoos’ and ‘safari parks’ could no longer care for their animals. Many of them were put down. Some of them were turned into food. And a few were released into the wild.”

“If the species were native to these islands then they were to be set free in a controlled and staged release. And, of course, by 2162 that included wolves. So that led to the wild wolves from Scotland mingling with the newly released captive wolves from everywhere else, and the population slowly increased. The first part of the journey was the controlled release from the animal parks. The initial release worked as planned, but then when staffing levels collapsed, the final batches of animals were all released at the same time, including some non native species. Now, there are more black panthers than ever before in Dorset. There are colonies of wallabies all over Mannin and throughout Dartmoor. And all over the Peak District! Across the nine deserts of East Anglia there were

---

Previous – Book1 Page68 – Next

---

---

Previous – Book1 Page67 – Next

---

Chapter 9
Red in the Face

The next Friday afternoon, just after school has finished,  KristalClear and NutJob are catching up on the latest gossip as they hurry home to get ready for work. NutJob seems unusually exuberant, “some of the lads have bought wolves’ teeth! Or to be more precise, one wolf’s tooth on a thin leather necklace.”

“Yes, I know, I saw one! You’re not getting one are you?”

“No way! Far too outrageous for me! Smacks of some kind of rebel symbolism!”

Then, trying to think of something more sensible to say, he adds, “when did the wolves come back? Actually, when did the wolves die out?”

“Not really sure. You should ask Faraday. Didn’t he work over by Ulverston once? Ulverston means Wolves Here Town doesn’t it? I’m sure he’ll know more.”

“Sure, must dash, have to grab some scoff now and better head in to work early.”

Wanting to chat about Ulverston, NutJob arrives at work at about 17:30 when his start time is actually 18:00. Franklin has just made a large pot of Manx tea for herself and Faraday, and tells NutJob to go and fetch his mug. In a corner of the PrintWorks, Faraday’s desk is messy as usual. Several half used note books lying open. More pens and pencils than he needs, and one old text book, open at a page showing a diagram of an electric motor, or a solenoid, or something. There are several small tools scattered on the desk, but there’s nothing electrical!

They clear enough space to prepare three mugs of black tea, and they all sit around chatting about wolves.

“Wolves Here Town? Almost right,” says Faraday, “Franklin actually did some research on Ulverston, I’m sure she can explain it better than me.”

“It’s a mix of Old Norse and Old English. Úlfarr means wolf army and Tun means farmstead or village,” says Franklin. “So Ulverston actually means the village of the wolf army!

---

Previous – Book1 Page67 – Next

---

---

Previous – Book1 Page64 – Next

---

“Thirty three. I’m not going to make Captain, that’s for sure. Too few positions to be filled.” CandiCrush takes a slow deep breath, “I could try to find a permanent position on shore, or I could leave the Garrison now if I wanted to.”

She turns to look KristalClear directly in the eye, and she summons up a weak smile, “I’m not sure if I’d fit into civvy street, the Garrison has been my life.”

KristalClear wants to be helpful, “what about the Constabulary, or the Ministry of Justice, or the Secret Service? Assuming there is a Secret Service? Doesn’t the Constabulary let you keep your Garrison rank, you could still be Commander Crush, or you could be Chief Superintendent Crush if you wanted!”

CandiCrush just stares into the middle distance. No frown, no smile, just an expressionless face.

After a hesitant pause, KristalClear plays what she thinks is her master stroke, “and the Constabulary has horses!”

---

Previous – Book1 Page64 – Next

---