A Wolf Story

by James Byron Huggins

  "Hide!" said Aramus, and Windgate was gone, vanishing amidst the rubble as only he could do.

  Aramus whirled, and in a flashing moment saw that the Elders of the Gray Wolves had finally arrived, charging into the Abyss through the hidden entrance that Windgate and Gianavel had followed. Across the length and breadth of the cavern the gray wolves clinched and closed with demonic shapes, and the air resounded with roars and screams and desperate cries. But Aramus had no more time to behold the sight. He turned toward Gianavel, knowing that his father would be fighting savagely with Corbis, only to see Death upon him in a hurtling rush.

  Baalkor struck him full force, blasting Aramus from the throne and into the roaring air beyond. Aramus locked up with the dark wolf even as they sailed through space, and before they crashed to the granite floor they were revolving in a merciless exchange of slashing blows.

  Aramus twisted violently before they struck the stone, punishing Baalkor with the impact. And then they were gone, slashing with blows that, had even one struck true, would have ended the battle with its killing force. But in the swirling, spinning, maelstrom of movement each saw the other's blow and evaded, by the slightest, flashing margin, that measure of accuracy that would have severed his neck.

  So involved was Aramus in the battle that he had no time to think of his father. Baalkor was all over him, snarling and striking with a fury flamed by rage from his earlier defeat. And Aramus returned the same with a fighting skill he had never known, not even in their earlier conflict. For then, even in his rage, he had been afraid of the dark wolf, and the fear had tied up his heart and mind. Nor had he been experienced in the art of war. Now, with a purity of heart and a freedom of mind, Aramus forced the battle to the beast, unleashing his purer intensity with a directness of movement that struck unimpeded by fear or the rage that blinds. He struck deep, and he struck true, and his shining silver eyes never left the target of his wrath.

  Yet despite his fierce intensity Aramus heard a familiar howl tear through the dusky air. Struck by the sound, he violently threw Baalkor back to gain a space and glared across the chamber.

  Upon the dark throne Corbis reared above the fallen Gianavel, injured at last. The bear roared triumphantly, and Aramus turned toward the throne. Then Baalkor was on him again, the stunning impact taking Aramus in a slashing frenzy across the cavern floor, rolling in a deadly embrace with the beast until they disappeared into the tunnel beyond.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  "Die, Gianavel!" roared Corbis, the black claws raised high above the wounded form. "Now you know why the Dark Lord rules the Earth!"

  Windgate was before Corbis even as Gianavel saw the big hare leap upon the dark throne. Corbis, astonished, glared down at the hare, as if unable to comprehend the defiant act.

  "Doom is upon you, Corbis!" shouted Windgate, raising onto hind legs to face the Beast. "Saul's death has destroyed you!"

  Corbis roared, claws descending, but the hare leaped straight between the treelike legs to land behind the Beast. Then an avalanche of gray wolves, led by the ancient Razul, descended upon the dark throne in a roaring storm.

  In a spinning silver wheel they revolved around the Beast, striking and tearing with disciplined skill, drawing the monster's attention from their fallen king until Gianavel finally staggered up from the bloody throne to launch himself again into the attack.

  Corbis was cascaded with gray, fearsome wolves of hardened strength that struck true and leaped away—old wolves skilled in war and dauntless in courage. Yet twice the descending black claws cut though the smoking air and caught a massive gray shape, hurling the Elder through the air to land limply in the dust. And with each death the others increased the raging attack, slashing all that they could reach of the towering shape. They leaped boldly upon the Beast, striking at neck and head and face to drag the monster to the ground. And even more were wounded in the effort, hurled through the air and broken by the fearsome jaws until, finally tearing loose from a swarm of dark wolves on the cavern floor, Kaleel leaped upon the throne and ascended the steps with a directness of purpose that tore Corbis's attention from his attackers.

  Gianavel saw Kaleel's intent and knew that Corbis would crush the smaller bear with its first shattering blow. And with the thought the old wolf leaped high to strike Corbis, slashing a wound above a glaring eye.

  Corbis roared and swung a powerful paw through the air, smashing Gianavel against the wall. And then Kaleel struck, the lean claws cutting an arc through the pale light to slice across Corbis's neck. And the blow continued, the claws tearing a deep path through fur and flesh and whatever was beneath to enter the air in a trail of black haze.

  Roaring demonically, Corbis wheeled and returned the blow. Its massive paw lashed out and caught Kaleel in the chest, blasting the smaller bear from the throne with the thunderous impact, and Kaleel screamed as he crashed across the cavern floor.

  Then Corbis turned against the gray wolves with an insanity of wrath that ignored all pain and drove him relentlessly after Gianavel. As one force the Elders fought back, knowing Corbis's singular desire to slay their king, while Corbis pressed forward in his hellish power, striking gray forms from the throne and the air with uncanny skill.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Aramus cast a desperate glance past Baalkor to see the fantastic battle on the throne. Elders swirled about Corbis, but were falling quickly before the killing blows that split the air with rending cries of violent death. And Aramus knew that, if not finished soon, Corbis would live to finish Gianavel, and perhaps all of them.

  Baalkor struck him again and Aramus went back beneath the weight. Together they rolled, each striking desperately for the blow that would finish the fight and end at last this hated conflict. Aramus retreated before Baalkor's slashing storm, breath heaving in gasps as he struggled to survive. Deep fatigue made his legs slow to respond and his eyes were blurred with the exhausting effort of the fight.

  "You were a fool to stand against me!" growled Baalkor between blows. "I'll kill you like I killed Saul!"

  Aramus's silver eyes blazed.

  "Saul defeated you!" he snarled. "And I defeated you!"

  Baalkor roared and struck him again, slashing deep. Aramus returned the blow but fell back again, retreating even further into the tunnel, away from Gianavel who was struggling to regain his feet on the throne.

  "Corbis is killing your father!" roared Baalkor, laugh' ing. "Help him! All you have to do is ... GET ... PAST ... ME!

  Another injured howl from Gianavel tore through the tomb.

  "Father!" screamed Aramus.

  Baalkor struck again, forcing Aramus back before its superior strength. Livid with rage, Aramus slashed the dark wolf high in its scarred face, and Baalkor instinctively stepped back. Hope flaming at the reaction, Aramus pressed his attack, and Baalkor began to slowly retreat.

  Aramus increased his force, striking blow upon blow, and Baalkor was driven before the onslaught. Somewhere in the enveloping pain Aramus lost all touch with the earth, knowing only heat and blood and the burning of his exhausted flesh. There was only the blow, the lunge,, the slash, even as a consuming heaviness began to overcome his defiant will. But in his fierce love Aramus ignored the pain and forced his flesh to do what must be done, driving the dark prince before him until finally they stood in the entrance of the Abyss.

  Aramus faltered, hesitating at last, his lungs burning as deeply as wounds had ever burned his flesh. And Baalkor swayed in the tunnel gloom, still blocking his way while slashed to pieces by his wrath. Aramus' face twisted in disbelief, and he knew that if he did not strike a finishing blow, the dark wolf's endless strength would outlast him.

  "You cannot kill me," snarled Baalkor, breathing heavily. "I'll live to kill you, and then your father. Your love ... makes you weak."

  Silver eyes narrowed at the words and Aramus snarled, lowering his head, focusing on the dark wolf. This was the end, he knew, for a fight so terrible could not endure.

  Aramus leaped,
bridging the gap without warning. He feinted high, then lunged beneath Baalkor's defense and tore open its chest. Aramus felt ribs and flesh surrender to the blow, and the dark wolf staggered back, howling a mortal cry. Distracted by the crippling pain, Baalkor never saw the fangs that closed upon his foreleg. A wrenching twist of powerful jaws snapped the leg and Aramus instantly released, evading the returning slash that missed his face by a narrow edge.

  Roaring in pain, Baalkor reared back, snarling, and the maddened eyes blazed at Aramus, who edged closer.

  Baalkor cast a wild look over his shoulder.

  "I will return," it rasped, choked by its pain. "And I will destroy you."

  Aramus gazed into the demonic eyes, saw the unending hate, and suddenly beheld a scene far from the Abyss. Even as Aramus stood before the Beast, he gazed upon a moonlit glade where an old hare lay dying in the snow, faithful and loving to the end... and he saw Windgate, standing brokenly over the body of his fallen friend ... Kaleel mourning the loss of his father ... Gianavel wounded beneath Corbis. And not even Aramus knew what deep purpose decided his reply, but his words fell like ice from white fangs.

  "No," he said. "This is the end."

  Aramus moved forward, slowly at first, and Baalkor saw the lethal light of those silver eyes. The dark wolf snarled hideously, and Aramus moved again, faster, his movements blending suddenly into a blinding, silver blur that swept in with supernatural speed.

  Baalkor saw the silver shape sweep in and sweep out again, and felt with the movement a numbness descend instantly upon him. He staggered, the evil face a mask of shock and disbelief, and felt his strength spilling onto the cavern floor.

  A moment more he stood, staring at the silver wolf, who watched, breathing hard, only a step away. Then suddenly, as if summoned by a force beyond his will, the dark wolf stumbled, collapsing.

  Baalkor looked up and saw Aramus standing over him, the silver eyes somehow saddened, shocked at the horror of the task. Then he felt the sentence of death, and in the final, terrifying moment beheld an unearthly judgment crowning that silver brow, before darkness claimed him.

  Even as the dark head fell, Aramus turned away and leaped into the cavern to meet Kaleel rising from the floor. The bear staggered up slowly, dazed and disoriented from a terrible wound. No words were passed as the friends met, and none were necessary as they turned and quickly ascended the granite to enter the battle on the throne.

  Unable to wait for Kaleel, Aramus ran forward to see Gianavel pinned against a flat wall, inescapably trapped by Corbis's wide reach. Elders swirled about the Beast, striking and roaring, but Corbis was returning their wrath and more while sweeping wide, killing blows that Gianavel evaded by the narrowest edge.

  Roaring, Aramus bounded up the throne and launched himself high with a powerful leap. Corbis turned, struck by the challenge, as Aramus completed a silver arc through the shadowy air and descended, fangs announcing his intent, into the face of the Beast.

  *

  sixteen

  Aramus saw the gaping wound in Corbis's .massive neck as he descended and knew he would only have time for a single blow. And even as he landed his fangs lashed out, tearing a deeper wound through the wound already there. Corbis roared, snatching Aramus between massive paws, and hurled him with stunning force into the wall beside Gianavel.

  Corbis descended upon them, ignoring the Elders who threw themselves into the fight with suicidal abandon, slashing with exhausted strength. And then Kaleel leaped forward, roaring, to strike yet another blow at the injured neck.

  Corbis spun at the slashing blow and returned the attack, lashing out with unbelievable force. The huge paw struck Kaleel's shoulder, shattering flesh and bone together, and the young bear cried out, staggering back wildly from the crushing impact. Turned from Gianavel by the threat of yet another and perhaps fatal blow from the young bear, Corbis leaped upon Kaleel to finish the kill.

  Struck with horror, Aramus and Gianavel roared and leaped together upon Corbis. Aramus slashed at the monster's shoulder, tearing away the dark fur, and Gianavel, defying Corbis's deadly jaws, sank fangs deep into the rending wound that had been torn by Kaleel, breaking the Beast from the ravaging attack.

  Corbis roared, whirled toward Gianavel and leaped forward, but the old wolf was gone, striking a rear leg and leaping back again, using his superior speed and evasiveness to every advantage. Corbis advanced after him, while Kaleel staggered slowly to his feet, bleeding and stunned.

  Upon the dark throne they circled the Beast, and in a flashing, nightmarish conflict waged a devastating battle of attacks thrown and countered, of blows delivered and blows received and fangs returning the same. Then Corbis launched a sweeping rush toward Gianavel. Almost, the old wolf evaded the closing force, but a wide paw caught him in the side. Gianavel roared savagely as the crushing blow hurled him across the throne, where he collapsed.

  Corbis rushed forward to throw another killing swipe of the black claws. But even as the Beast moved, Aramus leaped in with suicidal boldness. His long fangs sank deep into the bear's neck and Aramus leaped back again, tearing away the dark flesh. Roaring in agony, Corbis reared, towering above them all, and turned toward Aramus, who backed out upon the throne, snarling and roaring in his own rage.

  Fangs smoking with blood, the Beast bent over the silver wolf and roared, scorning the power of its wound. And Aramus looked fully into Corbis's unearthly eyes, beholding the world contained within the blackened depths, a world darkly solid and pure with evil purpose, covered by dancing slivers of demonic life.

  "I will destroy you!" Corbis rasped.

  Aramus stared into the eyes, shook his head.

  "No," he gasped, "you'll only destroy my flesh."

  Corbis roared and raised the black claws high, and then Gianavel struck.

  The great gray wolf collided against the Beast with devastating force, striking high and true to draw deep blood, and Corbis's killing blow was lost within the impact. Then Kaleel leaped forward, locking teeth deeply into Corbis's huge foreleg, using all his weight to drag the monster down.

  Staggering, resisting the roaring attack with primordial strength, Corbis attempted to shake off Kaleel, and struck wildly at the elusive gray shape of Gianavel. And Aramus, with Razul beside him, leaped into the attack.

  Blow after blow, they weakened the Beast. Corbis slashed at Kaleel, who howled in agony but grimly refused to release his grip. Frustrated and enraged to madness, Corbis struck again at the wolves. The Beast's black claws descended in a wide arc, and in a terrific instant collided against Razul's side, hurling the lean gray wolf from the throne.

  Aramus and Gianavel watched Razul smash against the cavern floor, but even as he landed, the old wolf staggered blindly up, bleeding and coughing, and they knew he would survive. Yet when they turned again to Corbis, Gianavel launched himself into the attack with a fury and rage that made even Aramus shrink back.

  With supernatural strength, eternal moment by eternal moment, blow upon blow, Gianavel slashed wildly at the Beast. The cavern floor streamed with blood and Corbis struck with monstrous strength, yet it did not lessen the fury of their combined attack. Lungs burning, legs deadened by the exhausting fury of the conflict, father and son drove themselves forward, refusing to surrender to the fatigue that devoured their strength.

  And, finally, when Aramus had begun to fear that nothing would ever weaken Corbis's colossal might, he felt the slightest lessening in its stance. Heart and hope suddenly strengthened, Aramus threw himself into the final moment of the fight with wild abandon, pushing his strength that last step, forced his railing limbs to strike again and again, refusing to rest his burning lungs and legs, doing all that flesh could do. Then Corbis suddenly staggered, and with Kaleel hanging tenaciously from a foreleg, fell across the granite.

  Aramus was lost in the blinding flurry of fangs and blows that followed through the next chaotic instant. As long as he lived, he would only remember black claws sweeping over him and the forms of Gia
navel and Kaleel as they struck time after time. Aramus fought on, knowing nothing but his wounds and the burning and the blood that clouded his sight.

  Yet he would never forget how Corbis, enraged by some final instinct of death and empowered by that dark strength that drained the stars of life, suddenly threw them off together, and against all natural force began to rise from the cavern floor. Shocked and exhausted from the destroying effort of the fight, Aramus fell back, roaring in anger and frustration as the colossal shape rose, its strength gathering even as it staggered up from the bloody stone. And gazing upon that dark majesty of might, Aramus feared that perhaps, indeed, the Beast could not be destroyed.

  Then suddenly he was there: Gianavel, old and bloodied, alone before the Beast.

  "It's over, Corbis," Gianavel gasped. "God proclaims that you will terrify no more."

  Corbis laughed through a bloody froth.

  "Your God is weak, Gianavel! You are weak!"

  Dark blood masked Gianavel's fangs as he spoke.

  "No, Beast," the old wolf shook his head. "The Lightmaker has destroyed you ... at last."

  Corbis began to rise, snarling, laughing.

  "Not by your God, Gianavel!" Corbis roared. "Not by your God!"

  Gianavel struck again. Fully into the face of the Beast he leaped, tearing again at the ravaged wound. Yet in order to deliver the blow, the old wolf was forced to receive the same. Corbis closed a crushing embrace around Gianavel, and roaring in some abysmal agony of death, staggered up from the granite.

  Aramus screamed as Corbis's great fangs separated and descended vengefully into the great wolf. And the two shapes swayed in the Abyss, crowned by roars and cries of the cavernous battle that lent an unearthly aspect to the scene, as if their spirits, more enduring and stronger than flesh, were continuing the conflict. Then suddenly, as if thunderously struck from above by some devastating power beyond them all, Corbis screamed, stumbling. Instantly Gianavel fell from the crushing embrace, rolling away as he hit the stone to leap clear.