But they could not be stalking him. There was no reason.
But then an even larger wolf appeared, standing in dark majesty betweenthe others, a full head taller than either. On closer inspection therecould be seen some flaw in him, some change. The head was larger andthe ears wider. The snout was shorter and a dark, bristling mane likethat of a horse could be seen as he lowered a haunting mask toward thetribesman. Black streaks ran down from it across his haunchingshoulders, the yellowish thrust of the upper body yielding gradually tothat of an unchanged wolf. And he was strong, unnaturally strong. Hisslitted eyes were fierce and full of hatred: Shar-hai.
The boy took first one step, and then another, upstream away from them,trying not to show how helpless and afraid he really was. He movedlaterally, not wanting to turn his back. They were coming after himnow, gaining speed with each crouching step. He started to run, but aloose clump of grassy mud gave way beneath the weight of his foot,splitting his legs apart beneath him. He fell forward stiffly, landinghalf in the water and half on the sandy shore.
The three were upon him in an instant. He tried to call out for help,but his terror-filled cries were too feeble to pierce the oncoming wind,and were carried away before they could reach his sleeping comrades,less than half a mile away. He felt a sharp burst of pain at the backof his neck, followed by an icy numbness. Then all sensations blurredand faded. A silent blackness engulfed him, and he was no more.
The two dark wolves, the guard of Shar-hai, stepped back in bloodytriumph, howling their defiance to the skies. Yet slowly the stir ofthe kill was dispersed, and the birds in the willows sang untroubled.
***
Kalus had been awake for almost an hour. He had risen to find the wolfgone, but gave it little thought. Akar had his own life to live aswell, and he had not failed to note his companion's dark mood thenight before. He could not fully reason its source, but knew that itmust be something fairly serious. For the wolves were stoic andinfinitely survivable creatures, who rarely let emotion get the best ofthem. Returning from the smaller enclosure with the four poles and hissword, Kalus thought back to the day of his banishment, and realized forthe first time that Akar's gesture of submission in thecave---rolling over in the dirt---had not been a plea for mercy. . .butan act of acceptance. An acceptance of death. He shook his head at theirony, though the word meant nothing to him. He had no regrets.
He sat down on a stone inside the entrance and worked quietly andsteadily, peeling long strips of bark from the poles, to use along withthe strands of rabbit fur, to bind them together into a frame. Sylvianastirred dreamily beneath the covers of her bed and he smiled, then roseto greet her. Her face was to him as a flower in the desert, or a pieceof fruit hanging from the tree when one is very, very thirsty.
His steps were checked halfway by a familiar but unsettling sound: thehollow wail of human breath through a conch-shell.
'What was that?' asked the girl, stretching, now awake. The soundcame again, faintly louder.
'I must leave here,' he answered. 'One of my people is introuble. I will return as soon as I can.'
'Kalus, wait---'
He took his sword from its sheath and left the cave and bounded down theslope toward the ravine, then up again and on to the flat lands beyond.
*
Akar hesitated outside Kamela's lair, a stone-lipped hole cut intothe hillside. This far his progress had gone unchecked. His nose lowto the ground, he searched the fern-scattered earth and outlying bramblefor unfamiliar scents. He thought it unlikely that she would takeanother mate, willingly at least, but if he were to have any real chanceof freeing her, he had to be certain. He found at first only theday-old scent of an elder female, then traces of an altered musk thatturned the blood to poison in his veins.
Suppressing inner violence, he entered the dank and root-lined swell tofind her lying ruefully in the dirt, nursing her one remaining cub.Seeing him her eyes glowed life for moment, then dulled, as if recallingsome bitter and irreversible truth. She rose and stood before him,brushing his ear with her snout, then stepped back and addressed him inthe ancient and subtle language of the wolves.
'Brother of my husband,' she said quietly. 'I am heartened tosee that you live and flourish, but I fear that your time here iswasted. Shar-hai will never allow you to take me. He draws too muchpleasure from seeing the house of Shaezar in ruin.'
'Wife of my dead brother,' he replied with equal detachment.'I am alive but do not flourish. How could I live in peace with thechosen of my heart brought to shame?' He turned away, then gesturedtoward the cub. 'What of the others?'
'They are dead. The half-breed has killed all males he has not takento himself, or has need of now.' Bitter silence. 'Why have youcome?' He loved her too much.
'I am going to challenge Shar-hai for leadership of the pack. Hispride will not let him refuse me. While his attention is drawn, youmust flee with the cub to Skither's cave. It is the one place hedare not follow. There you will be safe among friends.'
'But he will kill you.'
'Yes, or I will kill him. Either way I cannot forsake my obligationto the pack, or to you. Do not dispute me, Kamela, I stand now in mybrother's place. You must be ready to leave as soon as you hear thesounds of our battle. Travel as far and as fast as you can; carry thecub if you must. We will not have another chance.'
.. 'Very well.' Her voice was soft and without hope. 'I willdo as you say. Who are the friends I am to meet?'
'A woman-child and her mate. She was brought here by Skither, and islike no other. Her companion is Kalus, of the hill-tribe.'
'Such as these?'
'Yes. They are to be wholly trusted.' He broke away and went tothe entrance, looking worried and weary of talk. 'Where is Shar-hai?When does he return?'
'He is said to be hunting with his guard near the Carak, though thereis no shortage of food. But that has never stopped him from killingbefore.' Akar felt a strange premonition as she said the words.
'Why so near the hill-tribe?'
'I do not know. He has been gone since nightfall.'
He thought of Barabbas. 'So be it.'
*
His legs were weary and his mind was full of doubt. Perspiration pouredfrom his brow to the chill of the wind, and his head and lungs achedfrom the exertion. But he ran on. Nearing the joining of rivers he sawhis younger brother standing on the far side with the conch-shellraised, still summoning wildly. He began to wade the shallows, hissword raised above him. He saw that his brother was crying. The currentwelled up around his neck.
Then he saw the body. He fought back a strangling burst of sorrow thatin those waters might well have killed him.
His brother had seen him. Fighting the current, Kalus again found hisfooting among the northern shallows, then waded in stubbornly. Hedropped his sword on the bank and went to the body of Shama, still halfin the water, and lifted and carried it gently to the root-coveredground beneath a willow. Setting it down as he would his own child tosleep, he stood back. He could not escape the pain. His face was wet,and he turned to face his brother.
'Who did this thing?' he demanded, with uncontrolled violence inhis hands and in his heart. His brother felt the same emotion.
'The wolves who you protect.' He was not awed by the sword, or byage.
'Be silent or I will kill you!' flashed Kalus' hands. 'Youknow Akar would not do this. WHAT wolves!'
'The Changed One and his guard. I saw them taste Shama's bloodwhile he yet lived..... Barabbas has gone to find the others.'
'But why was Shama so far from the cave?' He wept outright.'Why was he here alone?'
At last Komai looked into his eyes, and realized again his brother'slimitless capacity for pain. 'I do not know, Kalus. We made ahunting camp not far from here. Shama wandered away from it while weslept..... You must go, brother. If Barabbas finds you here he willkill you.'
Kalus took his brother's hand in his and pressed it to his heart
.'I go to the northern hills. I will kill the half-breed if I can.Goodbye.' There was nothing more. He set out.
He made for the north, and so great was his anger and purpose that allcreatures who saw him let him pass unchallenged. He was only dimlyaware that two tribesman, one very large and strong, had passed him tothe west, moving toward the place where Komai stood in lonely vigil. Hedid not care.
But as he walked his heart-sickness and rage yielded slowly, reluctantlyto reason. He was not swayed in his resolve to kill Shar-hai---whomight next come stalking one yet dearer---nor spared any measure of thebludgeoning sorrow and guilt. But with each mile he thought more ofher, and of their indescribable communion the night before. And as theland became more broken and the granite-boned hills a nearer mark, hefound more and more than he wanted to live, a desire that chafed againsthis hatred, and crossed his will to act. He whirled the sword in blindfury about him, but could not make the conflict go away. He had neverbeen needed before.
He walked, now passing the mesa that had once, in what seemed anotherworld, been his home. And he thought, and tried to think, what must bedone. WHAT MUST BE DONE. And how to do it.
Where was Akar? How long before Barabbas would follow? Surely in thisthey were not enemies. Which path would the Changed One follow? Surelyhe feared the hill-tribe, and would not pass directly in front of theircave. He was grateful that his head no longer ached and his breath cameeasier. He thought of his mother. SYLVIANA.
Such ran the jumble of his thoughts, and the feelings which rose all thestronger for his efforts to control them.
The wolves, he decided, must have passed on the far side of Carak mesa.The would follow a small, tree-blinded stream to the hills. The Hill.There could only be one. I DON'T WANT TO DIE.
'Sylviana.'
*
Kalus sat crouched and still among the twisted bramble that grew,overshadowed by oak and maple, at the base of the hill. He had reachedthe narrow vale first and seen them coming, as he thought, from thewest. He had positioned himself uphill, and downwind of the gentle foldthrough which they must pass, betting his life on the skills he hadlearned as a boy.
They turned the bend and came closer, scenting the wind. And as hewatched, the man-child was struck, and weakened in will, by the size andunswerving gait of Shar-hai, whom he had seen before only from adistance. Now he was less than a hundred yards away.
Suddenly the great head stopped in mid-air, turning left and then right:searching. At the same moment his guard lowered their noses to theground and angrily, anxiously swept the earth about them. Kalus'heart froze, but even as it did his fingers wrapped more tightly aboutthe hilt of his sword. The two fanned out fifteen yards to either side,then doubled back upon their own path. It was not his scent they hadfound.
They snarled and tore the ground with their feet, waiting toadvance. For the scent of the true wolf they recognized, and hated.Only Shar-hai looked about him, sensing, but not seeing, something else.He too was aware of Akar. His lip curled slightly and a rumble ofdistant hatred crawled out.
They advanced up the hill.
Chapter 13
The sky was deep and blue and bare of clouds. The sun shone down brightand unhindered, but its warmth was fleeting, carried away by thefretting and inconstant late October wind. Dry and fallen leaves werewhisked up quickly into whirlwinds, only to be abandoned with equalsuddenness, left to drift back to earth as they would. The aged andwind swept granite thrusts bore countless lichen edged crevices, filledwith the same brown and lifeless needles that covered the groundwherever rock or pine, or holly did not. The air was cool and clear,but altogether void of fragrance.
The meeting place had been well chosen. A wide and shallow bowl at thevery crown of the Hill, carved by nature from the rock that formed itsbones, it commanded an unobstructed view for miles in all directions.Beyond the reach of all but the hardiest pines, it lay bare and open tothe sky above. Here sun by day and star by night were free both to seeand be seen by the descendants of a race as old as conscious thoughtupon the Earth.
It is a fitting place to die, thought Akar solemnly. He rested now uponthe southern promontory which stood out from the edge of the bowl likethe horn of a saddle, waiting for his foe to reappear from the cover ofoverhanging branches into which he had vanished from view. By now hemust surely be aware of his presence. But he knew Shar-hai would donothing in haste.
So arching his head skyward like the wolves of old, he let out a long,dispassionate howl, issuing his challenge to whatever ears might chooseto hear it. He felt new strength and courage coming to him from out ofthe Hill, from the roots of stone and past, and he vowed again not tosurrender his spirit until every chance to kill or injure the usurperhad been utterly spent.
Now less than two hundred yards away on the slope below, the guardresponded with angry growls and defiance. For they still detected onlyone forbidden scent. Only Shar-hai showed restraint, held back by themeasured caution of one who had lived his life in subtle but constantfear of retribution.
Not that he feared Akar's challenge. He had no intention of abidingby any rules or code of honor in dealing with his brave but foolishopponent. He knew that if at any point he faltered, his guard would nothesitate to join the fray.
But still he was uneasy. He had slept poorly two nights before, andtrembled in the shadows of a dark vision.
In his dreams---he had not slept again since---he walked through a bleakforest of eternal night, the black trunks of the trees gnarled andtwisted like misshapen statues, wrapped about the feet with a chill mistthat rose to a fog and blanketed the horizons, giving all distance afeeling of timelessness and endlessness.
He walked alone, feeling lost: hungry, no matter how many times hekilled. He stalked and slew first one beast and then another, with noneto rise up against him, and none to mourn the loss of the fallen.
And finally, after an endless, meaningless search, he thought he hadfound it, the thing he hungered for. A child, white and innocent andsoft. It had fled before him on sight, flying first down, and then up,a long bare hill. He pursued it in ecstasy, in torment. Closer andcloser, his body growing weaker, almost sexually, his legs sometimesmoving in place, as his desire became more desperate. He was almostupon it when---
A terrible Angel of Death stood before him, wrapped in a cold and deadlylight, a flaming blue weapon in its hands. He tried to stop, butsomething pushed him forward, irresistible: driven like a piece of meatonto the stake. He cried out in a voice that was almost human.....
Upon waking he had heard yet again the hoarse words of the hyena bitchwho bore him, as she lay dying, abandoned, in the snow.
'Wreak your vengeance well, son of Shar, and fear not the wrath ofyour brothers. For no creature of the wild shall ever slay you.Neither river, nor mountain, nor lion; but only a man. Beware the darkmasters who walk erect, with the eyes that burn of a world that willnever be.....' And he had raised his head in spite of himself, alonein the night, and howled his anguish to the wind.
But here, now, there was Akar to deal with. It all seemed so pointless.For try as he might, he could not make his hatred flare against him asit had against Shaezar. They were much alike. But yes, he would killhim. And kill again, until the emptiness of his soul had been sated, orhad itself been devoured.
He emerged with his guard into the clearing that stood before thesouthern rise of the promontory. There he was met by the remainingmales of Shaezar's pack. There were only four: an aging outrider,two yearlings and a one-eyed five year old.
Seeing Akar standing straight and proud above them, the four were facedwith a difficult choice. If there had been but one more seasoned maleamong them, perhaps they could fight. But as it was they stood no realchance against the monstrous half-breed and his treacherous companions,themselves both large and fierce.
Akar looked down on them with compassion, for their dilemma had been hisbefore them: whether to serve a hated leader, or to make noble but vain
rebellion against him. The hackles of the guard were raised, and therewas scarcely contained rage in their throats. Shar-hai addressed thewolf.
'You have issued your challenge, small one. Will you remain thereabove us, or come and meet your death in the arena?'
'We will do battle soon enough, my unnatural brother. But first Iwill speak to those whose souls remain.' And there was in his voicesomething so solemn that it stilled the fires of the two, and grantedhim with Shar-hai this last request. He spoke in a dialect they onlyhalf understood.
'Do not despair, you that remain. Even if this battle is lost, themarauder cannot last much longer. He defies all that is quietly strongwith every step he takes. Nature will not allow it. His death drawsnear.'
With that he turned, and leapt down into the arena behind. Shar-hai wasthere ahead of him. And for all their snarling threats and lunges, hisguard could not keep the others from pushing past and up the curvingstone trench that led into the meeting place. One female joined themthere as well.
Akar fought valiantly, summoning all the courage born of despair, andall the strength and guile he could muster. He fought in the only wayhe could---refusing to allow Shar-hai to use his greater size andstrength to advantage. Each time the two would bolt together, risingfrom impact with heads writhing and bared teeth crashing, he would slideoff quickly and not be broken back, slashing as he did at the flanks ofthe other before retreating. In this way he bought time for Kamela,holding off the death clash as long as he could.