The Mantooth

  And as he pushed on, farther and farther beyond the limits of endurance,it was as if he passed through a veil and walked, literally, intoanother world. Time and distance became confused. . .and still on hisfeet he dreamed of straggling columns of men, plodding through a frozencountryside. Ragged blue uniforms clung to their backs, to his.Wounded and sick, with helpless eyes searching both sides of the road,fearful of ambush. A comrade addressed him in French.....

  He stumbled forward in the snow, recovered himself. The world was quietand deathly still. Kamela stood beside him, tense and erect, earsraised and eyes searching. They had wandered into a recession betweenwooded hills, where the snow was thick and visibility difficult. A pinebranch released its burden of white, and suddenly he felt it too. Theywere being watched. He had led them into an ambush.....

  A dark shape flitted between trees on the eastern slope. A low,impatient growling was heard. Kalus drew his sword to make a stand, butKamela would not let him. She bolted toward the slope even as a rush ofmovement erupted there. Two thin and ravening wolves, along with threehyenas, broke from cover and began to converge upon the line she made,straight for them.

  Her motive was simple. Her own life meant nothing, and the man-childneed not die. Also, there was the chance for revenge. She ran towarddeath free and unafraid.

  Kalus hesitated, unsure of enemies behind, and by the time he turned andmade up his mind to follow, it was too late. They were upon her,harrying and tearing in a scene made horrible and slow-motion by thesnow. Yet somehow she snarled free and lunged at one of the wolves, whohad stumbled. The others tore into her side and back legs, but herteeth had found their mark, and her last desire was fulfilled. Thebrutal Armus, black wolf of Shar-hai's guard, fell gasping andbleeding, his throat cut. As Kamela surrendered willingly to death.

  She was gone, and Kalus knew it, and the worst part was that his mindhad already begun to accept it. Raging at his weakness and cowardice,he rushed toward the scene of her bloody debauch.

  But for all his reckless will and hatred, his body simply would notrespond. He had not gone twenty paces before his heart and lungsscreamed in revolt, and all strength left him. At the same moment thehyenas left their kill and savagely blocked his path. Their bristling,snarling warnings said as clearly as words. 'Be gone, or we willkill you, too.'

  And as he stood helpless, mustering all his courage just to stand andlook imposing, the remaining wolf rushed past them and would haveattacked. But the others would not follow, and he was reluctant to faceKalus' sword alone. By her final act of defiance, Kamela had savedhis life.

  The hyenas returned to the still body of the she-wolf, and bickeringamong themselves, began to drag it back into the forest. The companionof Armus stood for a time beside him, as if expecting him to somehowshake off the stroke and rise again. But soon he saw that the wound wasmortal, and knew his own life was in danger if he stayed. The hyenaswould turn on him next, and he had no illusions about what would happento the body of his friend. He turned to the northwest, and disappearedbeneath the silently whispering pines.

  Kalus was left alone with the dying wolf. And as he watched itsterrified eyes grow dull slowly like a fire that had burned itself tonothing, he felt he watched his own death as well. He had failed again,miserably, and felt all chance for survival, and the will to continue,evaporate. He fell to his knees in exhaustion, and heard the lone wolfat its distance release a long howl of despair. Night fell, and darknesswas all around him.

  *

  Walking back alone was perhaps the hardest thing he had ever had to do.In his darkened state he felt he had no reason to live, but somestubborn and unvanquished voice told him he must return. Weak andtrembling, genuinely ill, he had no other goal but to reach the cave andcollapse. Digging deep, time and time again, he searched for the willto go on, just a little farther, holding the image of the girl like anicon and a Quest before him. Many times he stumbled, and had to rousehimself to keep from lying down to sleep, and die, in the snow. So weakand pathetic had his movement become that two jackals thought to attackhim, and had to be driven back, though they followed the rest of theway.

  At long, impossible length he reached the gorge path and slithered down.Upon reaching its base he could not at first rouse himself to continue.A great wall of despairing fatigue seemed to stand before him, on top ofhim, and in his bones, an impenetrable 'No' formed of unendurablestone. He was tired, and the weight was too much.

  His one desire at that moment was to sleep and say goodbye. Just sleep.Sylviana would understand. After all, she still had Akar. Togetherthey could fly with Skither to the Island, and all would be well. Andhe smiled, because Skither was not dead. That was only a dream.Together they rode on his wings, above the parting clouds.....

  Through the delirium he heard a confused sound of high yapping barks anddeeper, more terrible growls. Then he felt a tugging at his shoulderand finally, the cutting of teeth. He jerked forward in dismay,expecting to be assailed.

  But the call to life had come from Akar, who stood guarding him quietlyin the darkness, stood waiting for him to revive, stand, and make thefinal effort. Kalus raised himself slowly, let out a groan of pain andloss, then followed him up the merciless incline.

  At length a door was opened in front of him and a feverish lightstreamed out. He fell forward. Perhaps someone caught him; perhapsthey did not.

  He knew nothing more.

  Chapter 19

  Kalus revived (or came to) the next morning, but could not at firstremember where he was. The events of the day before had struck sosuddenly..... Again he lay in the bed of cool moss, covered with furs,his wounds being treated by the soothing hands of a woman-child. Heturned as if in a dream to look upon the face of his redeemer.

  But no, that was long ago. Now the woman-child was his friend, hismate. Was it possible? Why was the chamber so cold? And what of thewolf-cub that lay nestled beside him? As the cloud of amnesia, like ablow to the head which jarred him to another time, slowly cleared, heremembered. And understood. The images of Kamela's death came backto him with feverish clarity. He shivered, and a burst of physicalpanic made him bolt upright, scattering the furs and startling the cub.The girl took him by the shoulders and forced him back down.Unprotected, his skin felt icy cold, and his body ached with a dull,yellow pain.

  One by one the furs were replaced on top of him. He did not fight, butclung to them as if to life, and tucked the edges beneath him to blockout the cold. The need to struggle back to warmth was so great, and soimmediate, that his mind had no time for despair, or the fullrealization of his plight. He shivered, and sucked his aching teeth andthought of nothing. At length he slept, though fitfully and full ofdark dream.

  He woke to find his worst fears come true. He was weak and ill, trappedin Winter, physically unable to fight for his survival. There waslittle food, and now no chance of getting more. The woman-child heloved, and the pup whose life was now his responsibility, would perishalongside him. All was ended. He had failed.

  But all was not ended. That would have been too simple and absolute.They still had the reserves, though tapping into them so soon wentagainst all his instincts, and roused the already powerful voices offear inside him. And though to one who has never had to survive,literally, day to day, these emotions may seem mere words, to Kalus theywere as powerful and menacing as the physical threat of a lion. Howmuch more of this could his spirit endure? To rise, again and again,from the decimations of this world, to go on without hope for so long,never seeing the end of the tunnel.

  Because a man who finds the tight-rope of his existence drawn so fine,the abyss below him so deep and terrifying, can never see the naturaland benevolent forces that may (or may not) come to his aid. But thedangers and possible means of his downfall, wrapped with fear and basedon past experience, are as clear to him as the struggling flesh heinhabits. For truth and fear exist only inches apart, and fear, by itsvery nature, will always seem the st
ronger voice. Men have faced thissame darkness for thousands of years, and many fallen before it. Andthe darkness never ends.

  Kalus felt, as he always had in times of deep struggle, the eternaldesire for life that calls a man to action in the face of danger, andcourage in the face of despair. But he also felt something altogethernew, or at least, never before felt at this level of intensity. He felta flat and empty indifference that told him all such effort was futile,even laughable, in the eyes of the gods who tormented him. Just as alaboratory animal that can endure no more torture will simply stopeating and slowly die of shock, he too felt that he had been punishedlong enough, that any reasonable bounds of endurance had been long sincepassed, and that the hopeless games of this world no longer held anymeaning for him. He saw only death: his father mauled by a bear, Shamatorn open by Shar-hai and his guard, who had themselves been draggedback to earth. Skither, who had died alone in a stinking hole at thehands of mindless brutes, protecting others who were heedless. And atthe last, when his spirit had nothing left, Kamela, who had perished tosave his own, meaningless life.

  The truth now seemed so clear to him that he was amazed he had not seenit before. All the useless struggles ended in death, either quickly, orin humiliating sickness and old age. All earthly bonds were passing,torn asunder by the whims of Nature and uncaring Time. And thereforeall life was futile. Still worse, it was absurd. A man who possessedreal courage only wasted it in endlessly trying to continue. Let himtake that courage instead and say, 'Enough! This torture must not beallowed to continue. If I cannot choose the manner of my life, I willat least choose the manner, and time of my death.' Kalus knew nothingof existentialism, or the other fashionable philosophies of men. Heknew nothing of the religious fears of mankind, or of his angry,despairing pride in himself. He knew only that his heart was broken,and he wanted to die. The dull and hopeless look that had fixed itselfin the eyes of Kamela, became his as well.

  He no longer cared, and had lost all fear of death.

  Chapter 20

  The wind howled outside them and the chamber held no warmth. His bodyshivered and coughed, and excreted the pain that knew no bounds.Sylviana moved the fire closer to the bed, then tried to seal out thewind that stole through the cracks in the barrier.

  It was hard and frustrating work. But rather than crumble to see Kaluslaid so low, and become cold and distant, she sensed that responsibilityfor their survival had been shifted onto her, and she responded.Through all the trials, all the highs and lows that she had endured thelast year of her life, she would have thought she'd have nothingleft, and that such a crisis would be her final undoing. But she waswrong. A quiet strength and maturity had been growing inside her, andnow she put it to the test.

  Forming the mortar to fill the cracks required effort and endlessperseverance. The hard earth below them, packed solid for so long, wasreluctant to be uprooted and mixed with melting snow beside the fire.And the straw that was called for was simply unavailable. So she tookdry pine needles, ground them up, and mixed them in by hand. The onlylarge ?bowl' they possessed---a curving palette of stone---heldonly a small amount compared to the number and size of the cracks shemust fill, and it was heavy and awkward. Then the mortar itself seemednot to want to stay where it was put. It took constant adjustments inthe mix and in her technique just to find a half workable formula. Herhands were cold and ragged and pricked by countless needles, and therewas no one to encourage her or appreciate the effort. Kalus wasoblivious, in sleep or in waking, and Akar was off somewhere alone. Thepup followed her with its eyes and occasionally whimpered for food. Thatwas all.

  But that was not what mattered. The man she cared for, and who had donethe same for her many times, was sick and helpless. She stayed with thetask all through the night, until the work was done. Then at last,wearily, she made her way to the bed and knelt beside him. His feverstill burned, and the cold drafts that pulsed down through the shaftstill troubled him.

  She thought to make up his bed somewhere else, but realized that layinghim on the cold floor might be worse. She looked over through theshadows at the dais beneath the altar, but could not think how to bringthe fire close enough..... The pup, lonely, hungry and confused, movedbeside her and looked up at her with pleading eyes. She comforted it asbest she could, then gently roused her companion.

  'Kalus?'

  'Yes.' His voice was flat, though he shivered.

  'Later today I have to go to one of the reserves of meat, for the pupat least. Then maybe move you to the dais, if that will help. Where isthe nearest of the reserves?'

  He shook his head without a sound. Misunderstanding, she got angry.

  'Why not? Don't you even care about the pup?'

  Again he shook his head, and said in a hoarse voice. 'Toodangerous.'

  'Damn,' she said. 'Damn it all.' True, bitter frustrationhad caught her at last, a destructive anger which found no release. Shestood up and paced wildly around the room. He knew what she was feeling,and it troubled him.

  'Where is Akar?' he asked.

  'I don't know,' she replied, her anger turning swiftly toconcern, then bordering on panic. 'He's been out since lastnight.' It would be the last straw if something had happened.....

  She stiffened, hearing a scratching sound at the door. Fearing theworst, her mind made no connection until she heard a sharp bark, andKalus said. 'It's the wolf.'

  As she forced open the door against the onslaught of snow-laced wind,she slid down, shivering in the cold and wet. Akar slipped past her.When at last she recovered herself and rose and closed the door, sheleaned back against it to face him, her emotions strained to the limit.

  When she saw what he carried she knelt down and embraced him and wept.Though weak and injured himself, his mobility hampered still further bythe snow, somehow he had done it. A large rabbit lay on the floorbeside him.

  'How did you do it?' she stammered. 'When we needed itmost.' Again she buried her face against him, in her exhaustionunable to stop crying.

  'Because he has the heart of a champion,' said Kalus, himself bothmoved and ashamed. The help unlooked-for had arrived, and they wouldlive a little longer.

  Chapter 21

  The next day Kalus felt a little better. The small portion of meat hehad been able to push past his swollen throat had calmed his delirium,and seemed to help his body generate a little warmth of its own. But hewas still very sick, and any attempt to get up and move about was metwith failure and a stern rebuke from the girl. She didn't realize,and possibly shouldn't have, that to Kalus being helpless was theequivalent of being dead. This attempt at the least physical exertion,walking, was his way of rejecting fear and trying, impossible as thetask seemed, to turn away from the inner darkness that told him his lifewas over.

  Because Kalus, too, had great heart. No matter how many times he wasbroken, he had always been able to rally somehow and go on. The problemnow was that he had lost sight of that faith and hope, the belief thatno matter what happened, he would always find a way to survive, and keepthe spirit alive inside him. His confidence in himself, at best oftimes uncertain because of the severity of the roads which led tomanhood, was all but extinguished.

  There had been so little margin for error in his life, and worse hadcome to worst so many times, that he could not help but wonder if hepossessed some terrible flaw, some shortcoming which made failureinevitable. But when he looked at this more closely, he knew in hisheart that he had always done his best: that he had taken the only pathsopen to him, that he had never quit, or expected anything to be easy orfree.

  What was it then that defeated him? To this he had no answer, onlyfrustrated rage that having no release, turned inward upon itself. Thebitter maze of his emotions had joined together into a tightly knottedand irremovable clot, blocking out all light and making life, even thesimplest continuance, seem utterly impossible.

  And yet another element had been thrown into the balance. He haddiscovered, almost sudde
nly, the depths of his love for Sylviana. Andwhile this might have comforted him and been a source or quiet strength,two nagging fears had risen alongside it, which in his present stateseemed undeniable. First, though he knew she cared for him, and in herway even loved him, that was now, when her need was greatest and therewas no one else to choose from. What if someday there were others? Andsecondly, of more immediate concern, he felt he could not take care ofher, or give her the things she needed to live. His every attempt hadended in failure and near disaster, and he clearly saw the price it costher. He felt for this reason, and others like it, that he had no rightto think of her as his own, a belief which galled his animal self to noend.

  *

  As all of this passed inside him, Sylviana continued to work quietlyaway, doing everything she could think of to stabilize the temperatureof the enclosure. First she took pine branches they had used as a blindoutside the barrier, and placed them in a careful thatching patterninside the shaft, here at the bottom where it was narrowest. This stillallowed the smoke to pass up through it, if more slowly, but also keptout much of the wind, especially the sudden gusts which seemed totrouble him so.