by Odom, Mel
Quiet, the lead wolf ordered.
Stonefur moved with rolling precision that seemed too loose to stay together, as if he were a puppeteer’s device and the strings had become worn and frayed.
Haarn maintained eye contact with the wolf and turned his body to keep the creature before him. The druid’s throat worked, but growls came forth instead of words.
You are called Stonefur?
The wolf closed his jaws and took a step back. Muscles coiled and quivered beneath the sleek fur.
You speak, the wolf said.
Yes.
Excited confusion rippled through the growls of the other wolves. They strode forward from the shadows, five on either side of Stonefur.
Are you wolf-man? Stonefur asked.
No.
Haarn wondered if the wolves had encountered a lycanthrope at some point. It would have been the only way Stonefur would have known about the existence of werecreatures.
You know me, Haarn continued. Open your nose. Breathe me.
The druid spread his empty hands at his sides and the wolf approached with caution but stayed well out of arm’s reach. Feral gleams ignited in the yellow-green eyes as they flicked back and forth between Haarn and Druz.
Not wolf-man, Stonefur said. Know you. You lifekeeper. Protector of lands.
Yes. Haarn remained still.
Not afraid of Stonefur?
No.
The wolf snapped his jaws, and for a heartbeat, a lightning flash made the fangs look blue while the wolf’s eyes turned orange.
Stupid human.
I respect Stonefur’s pack, Haarn growled.
The wolf preened, drawing his wedge-shaped head high and unfurling his tail like a flag in the wind.
Stonefur great killer, said the wolf. Stonefur kill many humans. Eat humans. Feed pack good.
I know.
The wolf paced in a semicircle before Haarn.
Why you here, lifekeeper? You search for Stonefur?
Haarn didn’t break eye contact. Yes.
What want?
You can’t keep killing humans.
Haarn noted the crafty set to the wolf’s eyes as he paced. Stonefur knew how the meeting was going to go. Perhaps conversation with prospective prey wasn’t the wolf’s usual method of operation, but Stonefur was intelligent.
The other wolves milled around, their attention shifting from Haarn to Druz.
Stonefur kill humans if want, the wolf declared. Humans more challenging than other food. Fun to kill. Human young feed many wolves. Only one kill.
Killing humans stops, Haarn said.
Not stop. The wolf stood still. Stonefur say when stop. Not lifekeeper. Lifekeeper be friends with humans if want. Not Stonefur. Not Stonefur’s pack.
I will stop you.
Stonefur growled and even the druid’s spell couldn’t translate. The wolf’s teeth flashed and snapped as the first raindrops swirled into the mix of whipping winds.
The rain stung Haarn where it struck him, and spread an icy chill over his exposed skin. The stones in the clearing would become slick with the precipitation.
How lifekeeper stop? Stonefur challenged.
Without hesitation, Haarn drew the long-bladed dagger at his hip.
You kill Stonefur?
Yes. Haarn kept his voice as cold and unflinching as the storm rain.
The other wolves moved in closer, growling threats and baring their fangs.
Stonefur snapped at the other wolves, then ran at them and smashed against them to halt them. The female bearing pups fought with Stonefur, but the bigger wolf snapped his jaws and bit into the bitch’s ear. Blood streaked the fur as the wolf bitch turned and trotted back.
The lead wolf slunk back toward Haarn and growled, Stonefur save lifekeeper.
No, Haarn said. You saved your pack.
Lifekeeper not kill all pack. Not strong enough.
I didn’t come alone, Haarn said.
Haarn whistled between his teeth. Broadfoot shambled through the forest line farther down the mountain. The bear pushed up from all fours and stood on his two back feet, towering even amid the trees that surrounded him. The bear growled and the sound rolled in with the thunder.
Stonefur resumed pacing, changing his course so that his new path crossed between the druid and the bear, holding both of them back.
You can’t stop me, said the wolf.
I will, Haarn promised. You have a choice to make.
What choice? The wolf glared with baleful eyes.
Whether you die or whether your whole pack dies.
Stonefur turned his muzzle toward the pack. They shifted in nervous anticipation.
Lifekeepers powerful, a male wolf said.
Haarn knew the males would probably be no problem. Their whole lives had been about following the male. If they saw Haarn as more powerful than Stonefur, they wouldn’t take part in the coming battle. The wolf bitches would be different.
Lifekeepers don’t kill furfolk, a wolf bitch said. Humans kill furfolk.
Stonefur has taught you to kill humans, Haarn said. This can’t be allowed.
Humans kill furfolk, the wolf bitch repeated. Lifekeepers battle humans.
Killing humans will bring more humans, Haarn said. Hunters have already gathered to track you down.
Let them come, Stonefur said. Humans not hunt as good as Stonefur. Stonefur kill humans better.
Many wolves have already been killed while the hunters have been searching for you, Haarn said.
Stonefur tossed his head. The wolf bitches spread out and crept closer to the druid and the woman.
You do humans’ work, lifekeeper? Stonefur challenged. You come to slay furfolk as well?
Haarn returned the wolf’s gaze full measure. I came to kill you.
Why? Stonefur’s tongue lolled out in disdain.
To keep the humans from hunting wolves. If I give them your head, they will stop hunting.
Maybe they only tell you that.
If the humans continue to hunt, Haarn said, then I will kill them.
Tossing his muzzle into the sky, Stonefur said, These our lands, lifekeeper. Our place here before humans. Before elves and dwarves.
No, Haarn disagreed. The gods made all.
Some places were made for furfolk. Some places made for scalefolk. Some places made for featherfolk. I take places back that belong to me. I hunt where I want, what I want, just like humans.
The humans will grow afraid of you and your pack, Haarn replied. More wolves will die. I can’t allow that.
You side with the humans, lifekeeper? The wolf’s voice held a taunting lilt.
Anger touched Haarn then. I side with the balance that Silvanus struck when Toril was made. A druid of the Emerald Enclave can do nothing else.
You choose to kill furfolk, Stonefur accused. Your god not choose that path. That humans’ way.
Haarn called to mind words that his father had told him when he first started teaching Haarn the druidic ways: Sometimes a tree must be sacrificed so that the forest may prosper.
The wolf threw back his great head and howled at the storm clouds above. Stonefur not your sacrifice, lifekeeper.
Not my sacrifice, Stonefur. I serve Silvanus, and if my path is true, I will be made triumphant.
Strength brings triumphs, lifekeeper. The wolf stood erect and expanded his chest, making himself look larger and more threatening. I will suck the marrow from your bones.
“What’s going on?” Druz asked above the storm.
Thunder split the air around them, and the lightning came so close to the mountaintop that Haarn felt the heat. For an instant, everything was rendered in two-dimensional black and white.
“I’m trying to save the others,” Haarn said.
Druz turned on him, raising her voice. “You can’t save them all.”
Haarn met her gaze. “I won’t kill any more here than I have to. Neither will you.”
She started to reply, but the wolf interrupted t
hem with his growls.
Leave, lifekeeper. Take your bitch with you and live.
Haarn didn’t bother to correct the wolf’s assumption. He faced the great animal and said, No.
Stonefur growled, Then you die!
This is between you and me, Haarn said. The others need not die. He prayed that would not happen.
They will not die, Stonefur growled.
If they stand with you, Haarn swept the other wolves with his gaze, they will die tonight, or on another night. I will finish what I start, and—Silvanus guide me—I will not falter once I have begun.
Thunder cascaded through the night, and the druid felt the tremendous noise vibrate through his moccasins. The pack shifted its attention to Stonefur.
Decide for us, the she-bitch heavy with pups said. We follow where you lead.
Broadfoot growled.
Stonefur glanced at the big bear. The wolf licked his chops in consideration. Rain dripped from his wet muzzle. Even the wolves knew they couldn’t all escape Broadfoot’s wrath.
You fight me, Stonefur said.
Yes, Haarn agreed.
When I beat you, the bear no longer take part against me.
No.
A sinking feeling dawned in Haarn’s stomach. He felt a moment of vertigo shiver through him. There was no turning back from where he stood and he knew it.
Stonefur flashed his teeth and said, Then we fight.
Without a word, Haarn started slipping off his gear and hide armor.
“What are you doing?” Druz asked.
“Preparing.”
Haarn folded his hides and his clothing so that they turned in to themselves. There was a chance they could stay drier that way.
“For what?” the woman demanded.
“To fight.”
“You’re going to fight the wolf?”
“Yes.” Haarn was irritated with her, not believing that she needed this explained.
“Why did you remove your armor?”
“To make the confrontation more fair.”
“That’s stupid.”
Haarn let out his breath, watching the wolf prowl and build up his own confidence, and fought back an angry retort.
“No,” he said, “it’s the only way I can do this.”
“You have powers, Haarn,” Druz said. “Use them.”
“No. This must be balanced.” Haarn glanced at his companion. “However this should turn out, you’re going to stay out of it.”
“The hell I will!” Druz’s eyes flashed beneath the hood of her traveling leathers. “I’ll not be left up here on this mountain to be slaughtered by those wolves.”
“You won’t be harmed.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Broadfoot will protect you should it come to that,” Haarn said. He stood bare-chested in the near-freezing rain, clad only in his moccasins and breeches, which were damp and heavy. “Broadfoot will also keep you from interfering with this fight. He won’t be gentle.”
“I didn’t come here to—”
“Woman!” The tone in Haarn’s voice caused Druz to stop speaking and step back. “You came here to get that wolf’s head. I’m going to give it to you. Don’t argue with me.”
Fire flashed in Druz’s eyes.
“I have bound us all with this agreement,” Haarn said. “I’ll not suffer it broken.”
“A warrior doesn’t give away his strength,” Druz argued.
“I’m not a warrior.”
Haarn transferred his knife to his left hand. In his mind, he knew his declaration, defensive as it was, wasn’t true. During his years, he had fought at his father’s side as well as on his own, but those fights had been against men for the most part, not animals who lived in the forests and plains.
Druz said, “You’re setting yourself up to fail.”
“I won’t fail,” Haarn told her. “Not as long as I’ve got a breath left within me.”
The clouds burst without warning, unleashing the torrent of rain that had been threatening. He pushed away all thoughts of the cold and concentrated on staying alive.
Your long tooth won’t be enough to save you, Stonefur said, flicking his tail.
Easing down, eyes on the wolf, Haarn reached into his discarded gear and retrieved a small fighting club. The weapon was short-hafted and was run through by a leather wrist thong. It was shaped by a knife blade, hardened by druidic spellcraft, and capped in bone.
It’s fair enough, said Haarn.
“You’re not going to use your scimitar?” Druz asked.
“No,” Haarn answered.
“You can’t take that monster on with only a knife and a club. That’s suicide.”
“It’s as balanced as I can make it.” Haarn popped his arm and caused the weighted club to snap into his hand. “The scimitar would give me too much of an advantage.”
“You didn’t seem to mind taking the advantage where you could against the slavers.”
“No,” Haarn said, “I didn’t.” He nodded toward Stonefur. “Let it begin.”
The wolf turned to his pack. His fierce growls drove them back into the shelter of the brush and trees. Stonefur came toward his opponent at an oblique angle.
Gathering his courage and his sense of purpose, Haarn circled as well. His attention was torn between the wolf and Druz Talimsir. He didn’t know if the mercenary would be able to restrain herself. And if she didn’t, Haarn knew it would cost them all.
Stonefur rushed in, catching Haarn in mid-stride as he circled. Quick, white fangs flashed for the druid’s crotch, drawing his hands down to protect himself. Haarn’s hands only met empty air, though. Stonefur shifted directions without effort, gliding by, then sinking his fangs into the druid’s right ankle. The wolf remained on the run, using his weight and his grip to yank Haarn off-balance.
CHAPTER NINE
“Eldath’s mercy, Brother Tohl, awake!”
Tohl stared at the grinning visage of Borran Klosk standing before him. The battlefield on which they stood—near Morningstar Hollows, a small village northwest of Alaghôn—was one Tohl had seen many times, but never during the time of the epic battle between forces of the living and hordes of undead. During his career as a priest of Eldath in Alaghôn, he’d made the pilgrimage to the battlefield several times. Acquainting the acolytes with Alaghôn’s history in regards to Borran Klosk had been part of his responsibilities for decades.
Mist swirled up from the battlefield spattered bright with the blood of men, elves, and even a few dwarves. Men and elves had lived in Turmish then, as well as other cities along the Vilhon Reach. The dwarves had traveled down out of Irongfang, their city in the Alaoreum Mountains, when they’d heard about the menace Borran Klosk and his undead minions had presented.
Brother Tohl knew it was a dream as he surveyed the carnage—he’d had similar nightmares over the years. Borran Klosk had never shown up in any of those earlier dreams.
The mohrg stood amid the death and devastation. A torn and tattered purple cloak hung from his shoulders and fluttered in the breeze laden with flies and the stink of death. Though Tohl had never before seen the commander of the undead armies that had threatened to overrun Turmish, he had no doubt about the creature’s identity.
Klosk strode among the dead. Besides the humans, dwarves, elves, and a few scattered gnomes and halflings, there were also corpses of men and women of all races that had been dead long before the battle had taken place. As the mohrg moved among them, he touched a few with the crooked bone staff he carried. After he passed, the touched corpses jerked and pushed themselves to their feet and started shambling after their master.
“Follow me,” Borran Klosk entreated.
The undead lurched after the mohrg, stepping toward the deepening sunset.
“Brother Tohl!”
Tohl knew the words came from some other place than the dream. For a brief moment he considered following the words out of the horror that surrounded him.
Wait, a soft v
oice bade.
Mistress? Tohl stood his ground. During all his years he had prayed to Eldath and felt certain that the Quiet One had worked in his life in small ways, but he’d never before heard her voice. Even so, the old priest was certain he heard it now.
Patience. Something can be learned here.
Tohl’s heart beat faster and threatened to rouse him from the dream. He had a vague sensation of being shaken, of someone’s hand on his shoulder. He ignored the intrusions and stayed within the dream.
Marshalling his courage, girded by the certainty that he was doing Eldath’s work, he crept around the fringes of the battlefield. He stayed within the trees outside the clearing that Borran Klosk and his undead army followed. Branches whipped at Tohl’s face and tore at his skin
Despite the fact that he knew he was in a dream, he didn’t doubt that Borran Klosk had the power to hurt him. A stray thought that perhaps he wouldn’t wake from the dream if the mohrg discovered him chilled his spine.
Courage, the quiet, calm voice said.
I’ve never been long on courage, Lady, Tohl admitted.
I will be with you, Tohl Farmarck, as I have stood with others against Borran Klosk in the past.
Before he could stop himself, Tohl remembered all the priests, warriors, and helpless victims who had died warring against Borran Klosk. He felt guilty, then he wondered how much of his thoughts Eldath was aware of. He continued up the steep rise, drawing within sight of Borran Klosk again.
The mohrg topped the crest and started down the other side.
Scrambling, panting for breath and trying to ignore the burning in his lungs, Tohl forced himself to the top of the crest. He peered down as the mohrg continued down the other side.
The brush and trees grew denser at the bottom of the crest. During the decline, the dozen or more sluggish streams of water that drained the mountains farther south and east became white-water rapids no more than two or three feet across. Once they reached the flatlands below, the streams blended to become a small creek that snaked through the swamplands below.
We are near Morningstar Hollows, Tohl realized.
Yes, the quiet, still voice whispered in his head.
But everything is different.