The Age of Steele

0. Prologue

The harness was burning him although he hadn’t it.

And maybe it was burning because of that – if Steele was tormented by some specific and definite pain, he would made it easier. He could wait through the frost by hiding under a snow. Sharp ice-shards he could take out from his paws by getting them with teethes. The hunger was the most dangerous enemy, but dog was ready to fight it too – many times when there were no other way, his master released him from sled harness and let him hunt with whole pack... The pack! Yes, that was the real life. When Steele had lost his pack, somehow he died.

[Picture by Sytana]

“And Balto has begun a new life.” Thought malamute. If thoughts were sounding like words, in that statement would be more resignation than anger. Because Steele wasn’t able to rage at rival. “This is the natural way of life – old ones go away in snow, as prey to Icy North and young ones come to cherish their triumph, at least until they are still young.” Without any satisfaction, but only with cold awareness of that fact, malamute knew that time would be come for Balto too. For few years halfwolf could remain his leadership in sledge-team, just like Steele had been leader for four years. But then... “Everyone will come here, where I’m now. Balto too. But maybe in some better style, without all this shame...”

He made himself rest. His body was yelling for some break and sleep but in the first place for shelter from snow-storm. The reason, trained by years of experience, was yelling too – the words of warning. Dog had to stop although his soul was urging him to go. Even when Steel finally nestled into a fresh snow just under shaggy branches of old fir something inside still was calling him to go ahead, as far from Nome as he could. Old habit made him to cover himself with heavy quilt of snow but his muzzle was directed to the north. If malamute wouldn’t be so extremely exhausted, he surely went again into his wandering. Luckily the sleep ceased this urge and bleeding pride. Blizzard was hitting forests of Alaska, covering all the scene in white. Even for early February it was unnatural cold – snow was striking the land and shards of ice were hitting hard every wanderer of North. Dog dug his shelter in last moment – a quarter of an hour later he would be dead from furious element.

So then he fell asleep, although he didn’t want to. He was scared that dreams would brought him the recollections of drama of last days – madness of humiliation that rid Steele away from Nome and away all the world he knew. But it hasn’t happened. Instead in his dream came his mother. Again malamute was a tiny pup, cuddling and caressing by darkfurred bitch inside the warm kennel of house dog-farm in Anchorage. With three of his siblings was nestling into mother’s fur and (although he didn’t recognize any word) listening to merry songs of love and devotion. But in that strange dream he thought he had understood his mother. She was licking his head and talking with soft, gentle but also scary voice.

“I’m so sorry, Steele. They will take you away from me. They will take all of you. They will separate you and order to run in sled-harnesses. But this is the way it should be. That why you came to this world. Don’t fail me, my son.” No, mother wouldn’t said that. Malamute probably was putting his own words of regret and longing into her lips. This was only a dream, not real caress of parent. “I want you be happy. If you can’t stay with me, go ahead. Become the best sled leader on the North. Make me proud!” Steele/tiny pup wanted to ask how she intended to check if he was the best. Because he was, at least for four years. “And she has never known that!” cried dog in dreamy mind. “No! I already know that!” whispered mother. “I’m seeing what will come. You are my son, so handsome and strong. You have fulfilled all my dreams.”

Steele wanted to ask if she knew what had happened later, two days earlier in Nome – how he ceased to be the best sled-leader on the North. But she only nodded her muzzle and licked pup on his face. So he took a look on recent disaster, but this time without all that burning pain of shame, that was paralysing him during the day.

Steele, the leader of sled of Gunnar Kaasen, the best sled in Nome, was defeated. By breaking of the laws halfwolf Balto unseated him on the mission by deceit, then he took a pack himself. That was the first disaster – great and painful but still not ultimate. The next one Steele made by his own paws – in spark of madness he intentionally misled the way of pack. In theory he didn’t make anything banned by Sled Code – he just covered Balto’s trees track. A wolfish way to mark the route, so Code says nothing about that. But this meant to harm the pack and endanger of sled – no one in sled team (apart of Balto) wasn’t able to lead the way to Nome. According to the Code, Steele should had thrown away his spotted pride and help his friends and master with all his might even aside from sled. But he left them for almost sure doom, laughing on theirs desperate tries. They had chosen bad leader and broke trust with natural chief – in some way deserved to die. But his master did not! Steele endangered his beloved owner and by this act he destroyed all his honour as a sled leader. He understood it when was already too late – when victorious Balto was entering Nome. Then Steele, left in scorn in warm kennel, run away don’t waiting for upcoming wave of reproaches and shame. And he wasn’t able to stand the view of new leader. He knew that he was ready to plunge his fangs into Balto’s neck. He would extinguished the fire of rage in his heart and he had nothing more to lose... except of this spark of sympathy from Jenna. She would saw that – him, weak and lost, and blindly avenging own failure. He would despised him even more. So he run from that despising stare. Due north.

“Yes, my son, this is already a past.” Spoke mother from his dream. “You can’t fix it, you must start it over again.”

Steele tried to ask if she knew that her son wasn’t still two-weeks pup but seven-year-old dog whose strength and agility was slowly fading due to age. He had no chance to rebuild that fame and respect he had in Nome. He had no chance to rebuild mother’s dream.

“Don’t say it, dear.” She replied. “Don’t even think like that. You can’t give it up, you have to go ahead, whatever it takes. Don’t matter on blizzard – you was marching that for long years. Go, my son!”

Saying that she muzzled lying Steele/pup in his side, making him to stand. And he slowly started to doors, away from warm chamber. Without slowing  (he knew that mother wouldn’t wished that) he exited the kennel into dark and frosty night. His tiny paws were subsiding into deep snow that after few minutes he was drowning in the white ocean, desperately moving his legs. But he was still marching ahead, according to mother’s will. And then his clumsy paws started to grow and snow surrounding him became even heavier and more packed. But in the same time – warmer.

The dream was over – former leader of first Nome sled awaked in snow-den in the middle of frozen forest. Quickly he got out from shelter to the surface to see that the day (or better to say: February’s imitation of day) was just raising. In one, strong move Steele shocked off snow from his coat. He had to move ahead. Away from Nome and life he knew before. A life from then on unable for him.

I. His preys

A new day has risen over Alaska.

At least Steele knew that it should be. In early February the difference between day and night was not so obvious. But if dog saw a milky-brightness at the east of horizon, he judged that it was morning. He starter his journey ahead to north. In spite of pain in exhausted muscles and soaring tendons former leader was running with full speed in Buckland’s direction.

Mountainous area was covered by taiga forest. In that season it was perfectly calm and quilted with snowy layer. Steele was passing between drifts and whitened pines and no sound was disturbing sacred peace of winter sleep. After such a vehement blizzard the landscape seemed to resting before another storm. Former leader was glad of this moment of tranquillity that allowed to put his mind and heart to sleep and to put in order his emotions.

Thanks to this silence he could think calm and rationally – like good sled leader on his route. He was in decent condition – quite rested and still he didn’t fell hunger. He estimated that he was able to speed next thirty miles to sunset. From his destination (that is: from Buckland) he was hundred and fifty miles away, at least in straight line. Steele knew this route and he understood that it could increase up to twice this length if the weather would be disadvantageous, forcing the wanderer to searching for easier paths. That why he tired to calm down storm of his emotions and act like sled leader should. He wasn’t leading any sled team – he was his pack himself but it didn’t dispense him from thinking logically. He had to reasonable manage his strength to get to Buckland.

Buckland. He was in that town twice with mail, when local sled was unable to overcome the blizzard. In fact he was totally indifferent towards that place but it only makes town more tempting. Malamute was looking for a new place where he could start his life over again – fulfil mother’s want from recent dream. “Become the best sled leader on the North. Make me proud!” sounded in Steele’s head and it hasn’t given him rest. He had to find right place in that inhospitable northern land and try to do his quest – one again become a champion.

Thought most of the day the weather was moderate good and about midday even winter sun lit frozen earth with sparks of warm. So in few hour