Scion of Two Pantheons

by Ted Striker

  The lead Tierkrieger Wolf suddenly howled and charged. It would take him scant seconds to reach Bryan. He could see the glowing amber eyes of the Wolf’s companions coming behind their leader. The sight, which should have filled him with mind-numbing panic, was absorbed by his focused breaths. Kick with Right Sole. Strike Opponent’s Ears with Fists. Kick with left Sole. Step, Block, Parry, Two-handed Punch!

  Chapter 31

  As he released the gathered force, Bryan envisioned it filling the whole width of the tunnel, blasting like a bullet down a gun barrel. The lead Wolf was caught in mid-leap only a few feet from Bryan’s outstretched hands. He was catapulted back to disappear into the Stygian darkness of the tunnel, with an ululating cry of lupine terror that was suddenly cut off. Bryan also heard Ayabis scream, and he felt a fiery spray of coals against his back, just as the torch blew out. The chi bullet he’d created was dragging air from the kitchens into the tunnel as it rocketed away from him.

  He caught her around the waist, lifting her from the ground with his left arm as he drew the Soul Sword with his right. “Are you well?” he asked as he carried her down the tunnel through what had changed from complete darkness into mere dimness. Some of the glowing coals pulled from the fireplace had been fanned to flame by the wind he’d made, casting just enough light for him to see the curve up ahead. He saw the crumpled form of a body, stabbed it with the sword as he passed. No pop! of a soul being absorbed; this one was already gone.

  “Y – yes,” she stammered finally. “Just a little scorched. What did you do?”

  “I don’t really know,” confessed Bryan . “I learned it about two weeks ago by accident. If it’s magic, it’s the only trick I’ve got. It worked well enough, though.” He let a little of his pride show. A second body lay across their path, also dead. They moved on around the curve, the darkness more complete now, although there was a faint glow of light about a hundred yards up the tunnel. They encountered three more Tierkrieger, downed but still alive. The Soul Sword took care of that, and they moved on.

  He let Ayabis down to walk beside him. “I’m sorry if I froze back there,” she said, more confident now, even if her voice quavered a little. “I can make a light for us, and I know some battle spells. I can fight, it’s just that – those things he was saying were so horrible! – ”

  “A light would be great,” said Bryan, “and you have nothing to be ashamed of. These guys are the kind that gives werewolves a bad name. Wait – can you make that light about halfway between us and the exit? That way we won’t be the brightest target around.” She gestured with a brief incantation and a little ball of blue light left her palm to float fifty yards ahead of them, where it brightened to a blue-white almost like a fluorescent. In that illumination they could see three more male humans sprawled along the tunnel. Bryan killed all but the last one, the blonde Leif Henrikkson.

  Pulling Henrikkson roughly to his feet by a thick yellow braid, Bryan forced him to stumble ahead as they moved down the last bit of corridor toward the light. “You were right,” said Bryan to the still stunned Tierkreiger. “You Wolves were too fast for me, so I had to slow you down.” He jerked on Henrikkson’s braid. “It is bad policy to brag. That’s the kind of thing a bully does.” He jerked again, harder. “I really dislike bullies.”

  They emerged into the dawn. Bryan kicked Henrikkson’s legs from under him, guiding the big man so that he fell heavily onto his knees. He used the Soul Sword to cut Leif’s thick braids off. The sword wanted desperately to cut into living flesh and siphon away the life force, but Bryan controlled it with an iron hand. Putting the sword into its sheath, he took the lengths of hair and secured the man’s hands behind him. “You insult me!” snarled the Tierkreiger. “How dare you shame me by cutting my locks? I am no slave!” His body shuddered.

  Bryan twisted the man’s ear viciously. When the pre-Change trembling slowed and stopped, he released the ear and grabbed a handful of hair instead. “Listen!” he growled into Henrikkson’s sore ear. “I’m not sure why I don’t just kill you out of hand, but hear this: If you Change, you will be dead before the fur finishes sprouting. I will take your head from your too-broad shoulders, and if you have any hopes of Valhalla or some afterlife, forget it! When I kill you, I will take your soul to myself, and Leif Henrikkson will be no more. At this moment, I simply do not care what you choose. Live or die, it is up to you. You threatened people I like. You are mine to do with as I will, so don’t piss me off!” Putting his booted foot into the Tierkreiger’s back, he kicked him to the ground.

  The three went north toward Balstow as quickly as Ayabis could walk. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, enormous weariness descended, but Bryan pushed them onward, taking them off the road and following animal trails instead. “Slower, I know,” he said in answer to Ayabis’ worried glances along their back trail. “But Porvir’s men will come along the road first before spreading out to search the game trails. We can evade them.”All day they marched. Late in the afternoon Bryan realized that they had failed. Close behind them they heard the noise of a large group advancing along the trail. “They must be using the wolves,” he said softly.

  Leif laughed gratingly. “My Wolves will track me to the Nine Hells,” he declared proudly. “And they will rip you into little pieces when they arrive.”

  Bryan unsheathed the Soul Sword. “The five or so that remain will certainly try,” he said. He turned to Ayabis. “You keep going toward Balstow. Tell them I sent you and the Laignach will take care of you.”

  Ayabis shook her head. “I will stand with you,” she said simply. She pulled out her athame, spoke a few words over it. The ceremonial dagger began to glow with a bluish light.

  “Do you think that I will simply stand still while you fight?” snarled Leif.

  “No,” said Bryan, and hit him in the head with the Soul Sword’s pommel. The big blonde warrior went down like a dropped rag.

  As if that were a signal, fifteen pursuers burst through the underbrush. There were only three Wolves, the Tierkreigers howling hideously as they ran. Porvir was not among the warriors. Bryan felt a flash of disappointment; killing the King in battle here would have simplified things, but there would be time for that later. He took two graceful dancing steps to the side and beheaded the first Wolf as it leaped for his throat. He spun to strike the forelegs from the next wolf, which was going for Ayabis. She finished that one with a crackling blue lightning bolt from her athame as it rolled up to her, its jaws still snapping until she zapped! it. A smell of burned wolf hair rose into the air.

  She changed her aim, pointing the athame not at the last Wolf but at a crossbowman who was targeting Bryan. He loosed his bolt first, but Bryan was fully aware in his Tai Chi dance; he slashed open the Wolf’s shoulder and neck and pirouetted away from the whizzing bolt at the same time. A passing tap from his sword tip sent the bolt cartwheeling into the face of a soldier who was charging toward Ayabis. She had electrocuted the first crossbowman and was shooting another long blue spark at his partner. That fellow was jolted backward, but Bryan saw him stagger into cover as he drove the Soul Sword through the charging wolf’s collarbone and into its savage heart like a bullfight matador.

  “My spell is exhausted!” gasped Ayabis. Sure enough, her athame no longer glowed. The blade looked as if it had been cooking in a fire for a week, and the edges were pitted. Bryan shoved her out of the way of another crossbow bolt. That meant he couldn’t avoid it himself, and it tore through the meaty part of his upper arm. He swore and switched sword hands just in time to parry a spear thrust. He riposted with a lunge that pushed the Soul Sword’s point out the back of the spearman’s neck, then ripped it free, drenching the two men beside him with blood. Herding Ayabis behind him with his wounded arm, he pushed her back against the broad trunk of a tree and covered her with his body.

  The mayhem paused as Porvir’s men drew back. They had lost every Wolf with them and a fair number of men. The original fifteen pursuers were down to eight. One cam
e forward to just out of sword-reach. “Surrender! Gods, man, you’ve fought like ten demons! I’ve never even heard of fighting like yours outside the old tales of the Defender. Surrender to me, and you’ll be honorably treated.”

  “Melthane,” murmured Ayabis. “Captain of the guard. As honorable a man as any serving my husband can be.”

  “And when I surrender, you’ll give me a fair trial followed by a quick execution,” retorted Bryan sarcastically.

  “Aye,” conceded the Guard Captain. “Without the trial part. But it will be an honorable death, a warrior’s death given by a warrior.”

  Bryan used the Soul Sword to strike the head from the crossbow bolt in his arm. “Pull it out,” he instructed Ayabis. He gasped with pain as she withdrew the bolt. Blood poured from the wounds. He cocked his head at Melthane. “It seems to me that I’m already going to die a warrior’s death,” said Bryan, “with the added bonus of being able to take at least another three or four of you with me, and the chance that I’ll survive entirely. What else have you got to offer?”

  Melthane swore. “Damn you, think! There are eight of us. Your chances of fighting us off and protecting Queen Ayabis are almost nil! You might die, she might die, my men might die, and for what? The outcome here is obvious. If you surrender now, you die honorably, I and all of my men will swear that you kidnapped the Queen, and she will be returned to her place of honor. If not, I will be forced to order my crossbowman to cripple you, and both you and Queen Ayabis will be carried back to King Porvir alive.” He paused. “You will both remain alive for a very long time, if you take my meaning.”

  Bryan heaved a sigh. “What you say is very sensible,” he admitted. “Please give us a few moments to discuss our options.” He turned to Ayabis.

  “You know magic,” he said quietly to her. “Can you heal me?”

  “I exhausted much of my power charging the athame,” she whispered. “I know the spells, but whatever I did would not be even close to complete.”

  “Do it,” he said decisively. “There’s still an option left to us. I’ve already given Melthane indications that I’m going to surrender. My shoulders are slumped, my sword is lowered, I’ve asked for time. He thinks that we are saying our good-byes. You’re right, he is an honorable man. I hope he doesn’t get killed after we escape.”

  “How can we escape? I know the man with the crossbow, Mihai. He always wins at competitions.”

  “A chance we’ll have to take. When I give the word, you wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist, as tightly as you can. I’m going to Change into a Wolf and run away. Don’t drop my sword.”

  “Wolf?” Ayabis recoiled. “You’re a Wyrg?”

  “Enough delay!” called Melthane. “Surrender now, or I tell my man to shoot!”

  “Are you coming with me or not?” demanded Bryan. “Decide now, because I’m leaving, with or without you.”

  Ayabis muttered the words of the healing spell and touched the bloody holes on his arm. Bryan felt the pain recede from the nasty burning feeling of recently rent flesh to the dull ache of a wound a week old. “I’m giving my sword to the Queen,” he called back. “Have a little patience!”

  There was a ripple of laughter. After a moment, Bryan understood the double entendre he’d made. Oh, well.

  “Now!” said Bryan urgently, and began the Change. He visualized his human flesh disappearing, instantly replaced by Wolf flesh. Ayabis jumped on his back, her arms and legs wound tightly around him.

  An alarmed cry replaced the laughter, but the relaxation he’d accidentally induced with his gaffe had done its work, and even the expert crossbowman Mihai was off guard.

  Chapter 32

  But the damned Change, even though it was accelerated, was still not instantaneous. Bryan dodged around the wide tree trunk and began to run on two feet. He heard Mihai’s bolt thunkk! into the oak about hip high, low enough to miss Ayabis while still wounding him severely had it struck him instead of the tree.

  {Change faster!} Perkunas urged.

  The Change continued at its leisurely pace.

  {I’m Changing as fast as I can. Welcome back to the party, by the way. Are you done pouting?}

  {Gods do not pout.} harrumphed Perkunas.

  {Perhaps you two should save this for another time,} Mebd commented.

  {Agreed,} said Bryan and Perkunas in chorus.

  He refocused on trying to Change faster. Two-legged running finally became awkward, and Bryan stretched out and began to run on all fours in anticipation. Here it comes . . . he thought. Any time, now. . .

  And then it clicked. He was the Wolf! Bryan stretched his stride, feeling Ayabis as a slight weight on his back, clutching his fur desperately as he undulated with his Wolf pace. He jogged to the right as some unknown sense warned him that Mihai had pulled the trigger of his crossbow, and the bolt whirred! past close on his left. That little black-haired shit was as good as Ayabis said!

  Bryan could feel the pulling ache of his wounded arm slowing him. There was another whirring! bolt to the right, and as he swerved left, an excruciating pain stabbed through his right haunch. He stumbled and they rolled over and over before coming to a dusty sliding stop. Twisting his Wolf body, he saw the bolt through his butt. Damn you, Mihai, he thought sourly. He twisted further, ignoring the violent pain, and bit the shaft in two. Then he pulled the part still stuck in him out and tossed it away.

  Ayabis crawled toward him. With a growl and a jerk of his head, Bryan indicated that she should get under cover. Then he followed his own advice and crawled to the shelter of a wide-trunked tree where he Changed to human form. Ayabis was at his side instantly, muttering the healing spell, but her ministrations did little more than stanch the blood. Surely some of his torn tissues must have knit, but not enough to make him into the effective fighting man he had been earlier.

  “I’m sorry!” Ayabis cried, “It can take days, even weeks, to gather the force to generate a spell. That is why many wizards prepare in advance, storing the force necessary in other objects. There are ways to rob the life force of others to augment one’s personal store, but I don’t know any of those methods. Why don’t you do your magic dance?”

  “I only know how to do the one thing.” Bryan said, “I told you before. Besides, I can only focus the force in a single direction. Even if Mihai didn’t pick me off while I was gathering the energy, I could only blast one or two of them.”

  Melthane’s stentorian bellow, trained to be heard amid the din of battle, interrupted. “We know you are wounded, Warrior! You can still gain the peace of death and whatever afterlife you believe in, and you can still save my Queen. Come out. Bring your sword, if you wish. Die a warrior’s death. Otherwise both you and Queen Ayabis will suffer greatly. Perhaps you can stand the torturer’s touch, but spare her that torment!”

  “Stay here,” Bryan moved as quickly as he could, hobbling out from behind the tree before Ayabis could react. He spread his arms wide, wincing at the pain from the wounds in his arm and hip. Blood had ceased to pour from his hip wound, but it still dribbled out in a steady stream. He felt a little light-headed, but suddenly the sunlit meadow seemed more beautiful than anything he had seen before. “Very well!” he called to Melthane. “Here I am. Send your warriors against me if you dare!” He stripped the sheath from the black sword and brandished it, swaying like a slender tree in a storm.

  Melthane did not plan on wasting men. “Mihai!” he called to the crossbowman, “Shoot!”

  There was no shot. What sailed into the clearing not only wasn’t aimed at Bryan, it wasn’t even a crossbow bolt. It was Mihai’s black-haired head, trailing a mist of blood.

  The grisly missile landed in front of Melthane and his massed men and rolled until it was almost at the Captain’s feet. One fellow turned to see where it had come from. With a yell of terror he turned and fled down the trail, and as the others looked to see the cause of his fright, they too took to their heels--for there, charging down upon them, their
huge forms exaggerated by the play of the forest light, came the hideously howling Laignach.

  The instant the soldiers turned to flee Bryan’s war-cry rang out above their shrieks, and in answer to it Branna and her Wolves leaped howling after the fugitives. Melthane and some of his soldiers turned to battle with their enraged antagonists, but before the infamous ferocity of the fierce beasts most went down to bloody death. The others were dragged down in their flight until Melthane alone stood trapped in a ring of snarling shape shifters.

  Neit sauntered up, grinning and unabashedly nude. “I found Branna and them close to where we were taken,” he said. “We came as quickly as possible.”

  Ayabis blushed and looked away, but Bryan grabbed the Wolf’s hand and shook it. “Better timing was never seen,” he said. Suddenly he felt weak, and sat down, leaning his back against a tree.

  Neit looked from Bryan to Ayabis. “You said you were going to get your sword back,” he chided. “I suppose the Queen here is usury?”

  Branna hurried over and knelt by him. “Afixio is almost here,” she said. “Will you live until then?”

  “I think so,” said Bryan, “But it looks like Ayabis might die from embarrassment. Bet you never saw so many naked folk all in one place back at the castle, eh? Like a sausage festival.”

  “I’m glad you’re in such high spirits! Because, after you’re well, I am going to kill you myself. Why in the world would you kidnap Porvir’s Queen?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t. She wanted to come along with me.” He gestured vaguely. “Queen Ayabis of North Keep, meet Queen Branna of Clan Conroight. Queen Branna, Ayabis is our new ally.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” offered Ayabis, eyes demurely downcast.

  “Likewise, I’m sure,” responded Branna curtly. She turned back to Bryan. “You have a talent, my idiot friend, for finding enemies and turning them into allies.”