Call of the Wolf (The Kohrinju Tai Saga)

by Nelson, J P

“I hear they can do things with their minds,” another mentioned.

  “Bullshit!” a third mentioned, “I went up there once. Ain’t nothin’ up there but a wizard and a few handy boys, and he wasn’t nothin’ much hisself.”

  “No foolin’?”

  “No foolin’.”

  I just kept quiet. They were going to be dead soon anyway, they were mediocre fighters at best, and I never saw any point in arguing with a know-it-all fool. The third was always trying to show how much he knew anyway. He couldn’t have been too smart, he was caught trying to sell baking powder as Morning Glory, a powerful addictive drug, to a legal official in Lychiwal. He was going to be hung when Edgarfield bought him as a preliminary fighter.

  Sure enough, when we got to Milano, the first city on the eastern coast of the Alburin Sea, Vadid the know-it-all went down in just over one minute to a d’warv. A few days later I was matched with the same d’warv. I’ve fought a couple of tough d’warvec, he wasn’t one of them, which just emphasized how bad Vadid was.

  When we got to Stafford, I was amazed. The whole city was almost straight up. It was built off of two towers on either side of the Phabeon River and the place was big. The bridge was practically a city of itself and the word was, if you had the money and wanted something, you could find it here.

  Inside of the West Tower was a place called Child’s Theater, and it was no place for children. As we were being paraded toward the tower, I saw hanging from the center of the bridge a pentagram, and in the center was the rune at the center of the Eye of Anu-Rah. A chill ran up my spine and then I heard a voice in Lohngish slang jargon say, “Hello my brother.”

  Looking around I saw the insolent face of Uven, and he was smiling. Well over six feet tall, he looked slick in satiny black garments, dark brown hair … and emerging from his side … a slinky dressed Cielizabeg with a smirk on her face and arm entwined around Uven. She winked at me and the two blended into the crowd.

  Mon’Gouchett! My hands were manacled as were my feet. I was, after all, the star of Edgarfield’s entourage and was touted as being more savage than a mountain beast. There was nothing I could do, again.

  I had yet to give my name, so I had fought under the billing of Gojai Dianbo, a makeshift name of Gohbashai and a word meaning demon. Gojai, I was told, could easily be chanted in loud volumes during fights, and here I found it to be true. Waiting for my own fight on the first night, I could hear the acoustics perfectly.

  When it came my turn I was taken a’back as I was led into the arena. The pit itself was sixty feet in diameter. All around I could see the denizens of Stafford. This had to be a city of deviants, run by deviants, for deviants. Most of the people could have gotten away with being naked, as scantily and suggestive as they were dressed. I saw piercings where you wouldn’t think piercings should go, tattoos completely covering the body, and hair styles which I would have thought could serve as weapons.

  Many of those seated in front were splattered in blood and more than one person, male and female alike, made sexual gestures toward me. The reek of powdered drugs was everywhere and right away I started to feel light headed. A heightened sense of smell also meant higher risk of susceptibility. I went into constant *Self Heal* mode right away.

  They had paired me with a female of a species I didn’t recognize. What I remember was that she was naked and had three pairs of breasts, claws on the ends of her digits and barbs on the end of a five feet long tail. She was my first exotic opponent, if you want to call her that, and I had no intention of underestimating her.

  She was one of their champions and had dominated her spot for years, so I was told, and a favorite. Her fighting reminded me of an angry cat mixed with a viper, really scary. Our battle was one of gymnastics and agility, leaps, rolls, aerial acrobatics and blood. For a time, there, I thought I might get my death wish. The trouble was, I had too much fight in me to go out slow, I needed to be killed quick, and I had learned a quick death was not likely in the pits unless you were a newbie at the bottom of the card. I had learned that the slower my death, the better the crowd would like it; I had become a main eventer.

  Reaching into So’Yeth, I found my resolution and applied *Stone Bones*.

  As I began to take the upper hand, things started coming out of the walls. I mean that literally; spikes poked out, vertical bladed edges, whirling saw blades at various angles … I now knew how blood spatter got up into those seats.

  Focusing on keeping the smell of Morning Glory out of my system, where her next strike was coming from, and the placement of those furniture fixings, I went deep into my own energy to *Slow* everything down … got the predictable timing of her next few movements … and then as she leapt for an attack, I leapt over her and grabbed her tail out of an aerial roll, landed into a full spinning movement, and whirling her once, twice, three times, I let her fly into one of those revolving saw blades.

  And the crowd went wild.

  Back in my holding cell, Edgarfield came over and demanded privacy. He was nodding his head, but then he asked, “What is it with you and your sex? I am being offered premiums for a roll with you. They are lining up, actually.”

  I hadn’t sat down yet, and I just turned and looked at him, “You want me to fight,” I held up my fists, “I’ll fight. And you’ll make money.” I walked close to the edge of the bars, “But I’m no animal to breed at your disclosure.” What made me do it, I can’t say, it seems I do a lot of things on the whim, but I grabbed the wooden bars and spoke low and menacing, “I could have killed her …” thorns started to grow out of the wood, “… dam-m-mned quick.”

  It would be the only time I ever saw him lose emotional control, if only for a moment, as he eyed those thorns and slowly stood back with his hands up and take a long, deep breath. Regaining his composer he eyed me carefully. Then he nodded slowly and asked, “Then, would you see to a compromise?”

  ___________________________

  After I had bathed and eaten, Edgarfield led a small party of males and females toward my cell. I was nude and as I saw the groupies I let out a small, extended growl. They had come to watch one or more of their own get lucky.

  The female who entered was painted in demonic tattoos, had piercing in places I wouldn’t consider safe to venture even if I wanted to, and she reeked of dried alcohol and drugs. Many of those piercings were tied together by tiny little chains. I could sense her lungs were already coated in slow death by the smell of her breath, and the aroma of her body spoke loudly of disease, the kind Doc said was transmitted through sex.

  Clearly she thought she was hot and special, and she walked so seductively around me, verbally offering me pleasures I could find nowhere else. What clothing she had on she dropped and stood with her legs wide apart. With a sexy voice she said, “Come and get me, baby …” So from my reclining position I lunged at her as she screamed. I grabbed a handful of chain and ripped as her groupies shrieked in entertained horror.

  Seizing her by the hair, I threw her into the bars and then lifting her over my head I body slammed her into the floor. Flipping her onto her belly I grabbed the hair so it tore in places at the scalp and hissed at her with a growl the others could hear, “You wanna hump, bitch? When I’m done with you they’ll have to pierce you back together.”

  She fought valiantly to get out from under me as she cried and yelled, “Get that crazy thing off me!”

  I accidentally let her escape to the door being opened by Edgarfield as her friends squealed with delight. Edgarfield said, “I told you he was feral, he’s uncontrollable.” He eyed the pack, “You’ve all paid for the chance to get lucky; who’s next?”

  One tall human male looked at me a moment, and I eyed him back. His hair was cut short except for a long braided rattail hanging down his back. On his ankle was a braided piece of indiscernible material which was long unwashed and I couldn’t help notice his feet were crusty filthy, as if he rarely to never wore shoes. A tattoo of what must have been a badly drawn caricature of
himself, with his foot high in the air, was embossed within a triangle on his left chest. Otherwise he was naked and apparently proud of himself. I passed my gaze to his privates and wrapped my right hand into a fist in the air, then with a sadistic grin I pulled down hard and pretended to throw something away. Immediately after, I chomped my front teeth together as I had watched some rats do, and then sucked air loudly against my slurping tongue.

  Mr. Studly turned white, grabbed at his crotch and ran down the hall with a sound of anguish, his bare feet slapping a cowardly rhythm against the stone floor. As he left I could smell a trail of Morning Glory flowing from the pores of his skin. When they had all gone Edgarfield gave me an appraising look, said nothing, and nodding his head walked away. That was the last time he put me in a cell with wooden bars.

  We worked Stafford for six weeks and I fought four more times. It was during our last week and the night before my last fight I got company. Somehow I knew it would happen, so when I felt the catlike footsteps in the hallway and heard the voice I wasn’t surprised.

  “Hello my brother.” It was that same, I am cool and in control, voice he had always used.

  “You … are not my brother.”

  I could hear the smirk from the shadows, “Of course not. You look good out there, you know? I, we’ve made some good coin betting on you.” He waited for a response, and didn’t get one. “I can get you out of here, it would be easy.”

  “And what, would I have to do in return?”

  “Help me kill someone.”

  “I would think you wouldn’t need my help.”

  He moved so the moonlight of my cell window would play on the iron bars of the door. “You have certain skills I don’t have.”

  “Who do you want killed and why?”

  “Why is my business; as to who, it’s someone you know.”

  My curiosity was up, now. I didn’t know anyone, not up here in the north, anyway. At least I didn’t think I did.

  “King Patriohr of Keoghnariu.”

  “King Pat- … how … when?” I was stunned.

  Uven looked at me with a cruel smile, “You didn’t know? Ah, you’ve been too busy fighting and killing. It’s only been a few months ago, he came up with a resistance army and killed King Aldivert in a one-on-one duel. Seems he and a few others had been hiding out in mountains, just waiting for the right opportunity.”

  Uven winked at me then, “You should see his queen. Nice red headed tart named Riana.”

  I couldn’t have been hurt worse if he had skewered me with a hot iron poker. And then I realized, “Cielizabeg, she wanted you to tell me that didn’t she?”

  He stared into my eyes and I suddenly felt something inside my mind, searching for my fears, I could tell. I opened my mind quickly and let him in, but only for a moment, and then I tried to reach mental fingers within his, kind of like what happened with Meidra.

  Uven jumped back quickly, startled and alert, and I sneered at him, “You think like you are the only one who has any skills. We’ll meet by sword one day, and we’ll see how good you are.”

  He had pressed to see inside, but by letting him inside my mind so quickly was the equivalent of letting an eaves-dropper fall through the door. I had taken his footing and seen into his own surface thoughts. Uven, on the other hand, hadn’t had time to see within mine. From now on I would have to be careful. He stepped back and left.

  Patriohr was in no danger, not now, anyway. He, Izner and Dudley had all gotten away. How was not clear, but they had joined with Lahrcus and eventually took back Kiubejhan. My friends were not dead, not all of them, anyway, I had not failed. I looked at my hands and cursed myself for a fool. All of this time … and I thought of Riana. Somehow Cielizabeg had learned of the two of us, and she wanted me to know my lady was now in the arms of another.

  All of that I got in a matter of a couple of seconds. It made me wonder what else was on his mind, and could I develop the same kind of skills? One of the things I had tried to do when training with, with … was to read other’s thoughts, but I had never come close. I could join the minds of animals, but not humans. Could I do it with elves, I wondered not for the first time? I thought of those couple times with my momma …

  As to Riana, a small fantasy which had kept me going was the thought of getting out of all of this, riding up to Riana, swooping her up, and going away to live happily ever after. That was now gone. Riana and Patriohr, there were many mixed feelings about the union. I hurt.

  Where I once felt guilt and grief, I plummeted into personal despair and self-pity. When I fought that night, I almost died, but when I came around there was a whole new aspect of my persona. I now wanted to punish everyone and everything. This time it was a man who looked like one giant muscle. And he was good, I’ll give him that. But when I let go, I held nothing back and I was cruel.

  The trigger was when he looked down at me and called me a spike. I looked at his feet, then up at him, and with all the degradation I could muster said, “You human.” I allowed all the hate I ever felt to fill and wash through me, and it became my strength for years to come.

  Things of beauty no longer registered in my mind. When we entered Dahruban, I didn’t see the amazing architecture, I only saw forward to the next fight, to the next time I could wreck my rage.

  Twenty-seven months, that’s how long we were in Dahruban. Never before had anyone lasted as long as the City-State Champion. The coliseum chanted my name in fervor; GO-JAI, GO-JAI, GO-JAI, waiting to see who might take me out, and waiting to see what I might do. I gave myself to it, drawing from their sound to fuel my own rage; where once I harnessed musical notes, I now harnessed the spectators’ roar.

  After completing my kill, one evening, I looked down at the remains of my adversary and suddenly I heard Ander ask, “You could be famous, Wolf. Imagine everyone chanting your name and coming just to see you, by the thousands, even?” The words came to me hard, and I looked up to see the crowd. Inside, I cried, I was ashamed and felt myself draw back, just pull away from the reality of my existence.

  Every intelligent species, male and female, I fought them without feeling of remorse; and then I would go to my concrete holding cell and try not to think at all. But then came the day they took me out and I was left in the center of the coliseum, alone.

  Something was different this time, and Edgarfield had not come to my cell as usual to look at me. The chanting was strong, and then from the north direction of the base wall a door opened and out came the first tiger I had actually ever seen. She was easily eight hundred and fifty pounds and she was hungry.

  The tigress didn’t come at me all at once, but circled me and sniffed me out. This, I thought, was not part of the deal. I did not kill animals for sport; people, no problem. They probably deserved it, but not an animal. Where that sentiment came from, I wasn’t sure, but it rose up from the core of my being, strong and firm.

  She was getting worked up and the crowd wasn’t helping matters, but I extended my hand and reached out to *Mind Link* with her feline mind, [Friend]. She was mad and had experienced the coliseum thing before, and she snarled at me. We circled around each other, she sizing me up and building her speed and I intently cautious and wary, all the while my hand was outstretched, my mind reaching. Then I began to hum, a soft and soothing hum as I drew power from the sound of the crowd.

  Slowly, I felt her open her mind to me and embrace my soothing emanations. Ever so carefully I moved close to her, and then I was able to pet her. She sat down and I began to scratch her ears as the crowd went ballistic with boos and cries of fraud.

  The lovers of blood and carnage are a fickle bunch. I tell you they will turn on one of their own as fast as the flip of a coin. Such as it was with Edgarfield; for three years he was the top person in his field, then with my taming of the tiger his status was gone within seconds.

  Facts did not matter in this case; the people believed the whole thing had been rigged and somehow went down badly. Arguments with the offic
ials were not my problem, nor did I feel sorry for Edgarfield. He made a fortune selling death as entertainment. With the exception that my high grade of food was gone, it bothered me not when we were closed down and had to leave the city.

  Once more we took the Pihpikow Road westward, only I don’t think Edgarfield planned to push through to Shudoquar, I think he meant to head north by northwest and skirt the Alburin Sea. Four days into our journey, however, I watched him, late after camp had been set, go into the woods, find a nice tree, and hang himself.

  Why did he did it, I don’t know. I have no idea what he said to anybody, what his personal conflicts might have been; and frankly I didn’t care. I just watched as he sought the right branch, tied his noose, and away from everyone else he ended his life.

  The next morning they found him and someone asked if I had seen him do it.

  My only response was to pick my fingernails with a twig and nod my head.

  “Why didn’t you say something, you gods-damned spike?”

  Taking my time I looked at the man levelly and responded, “Because you’re a human, and I don’t give a shizet about you or your damned gods.”

  In a rage he pulled a knife, and before anyone could stop him he hurled it at me. Even as he whipped back to throw I performed a front roll from my sitting position; as the blade spun in my direction I stood, snatched his knife out of the air by the handle, did a cross-stepping pivot, and return snapped it through his mouth and into the back of his throat so that the point protruded out the back of his neck.

  With a lowbrow challenge, I passed a gaze around the cluster and said with deadly calm, “Any more of you pigs want to try?”

  Nobody moved, so I sat back down and resumed the cleaning of my nails.

  Chapter 54

  ________________________

  SIX TIMES I was bought and sold before I fought again. Edgarfield’s entourage liquidated everything and then I guess the money split. There was much talk about shooting me and putting me out of everyone’s misery, but I was still a hot commodity in the ring, which meant I could still make someone lots of money.