A Wolf Story (10 page)

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Authors: James Byron Huggins

BOOK: A Wolf Story
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five

 

Wait," Aramus said, more softly.

Kaleel looked desperately to Aramus, to the rock, and back again, seemingly unable to contain his fearful energy. Then he sat back, his head bent with fatigue, white mist steaming slowly with each heated breath.

Aramus paced the edge, studying the situation. It was not good. If Kaleel missed the leap, he would never survive the fall. Aramus concentrated, searching for the right words, praying for wisdom. What had he learned. during this long ordeal? What had Saul told him when he was so afraid? Aramus closed his eyes, breathing deeply. And as he waited, his thinking cleared.

"Kaleel, listen," he began, careful to keep his voice calm, deliberate. "You've got to control yourself before you do anything else. You've got to think clearly. Just rest for a moment. Get your strength back. Calm down."

Kaleel seemed to be listening, leaning against the granite face, his breath slowing, more measured and sure. Aramus could see the dark eyes studying the narrow edge, and he spoke again in a soothing voice.

"Even if you don't jump, I'm not going to leave you. I'll come down and we'll find another way out of this. So don't worry. Just concentrate on what you have to do, and do it. But when you jump, forget your fear, forget your life. Just do what you have to do. Do it with all your might. And the Light maker will do the rest. Trust me."

Kaleel looked up at Aramus, his brown eyes frightened, but trusting. And Aramus smiled, nodding encouragement. Then the bear shifted his gaze to the rocky ledge, and Aramus could see him concentrating, breathing slowly, gathering his strength. The tense gaze centered with renewed focus on the lowest dip in the ledge. The heavy legs braced.

A violent shove launched the bear skyward, and the huge front paws slapped over the edge. For an agonizing moment hind feet scraped savagely against the smooth granite, gashing white marks in the stone. Then with one long, laborious effort, Kaleel hauled himself onto the summit, collapsing clumsily on the level ground.

Aramus's heart thrilled at the sight, and he leaped to the bear's side.

"I knew you could do it!" he shouted.

Kaleel nodded, seemingly unable to consider anything but the heavy weariness in his flesh and the exalting relief of finishing the climb. He sprawled on the ridge,
panting. And Aramus saw the physical pain of deep wounds in the brown eyes. It seemed that in his great relief, Kaleel had forgotten completely about the fiendish pack that was pursuing them.

Aramus turned to watch the gorge below, studying every shadow that waved and shifted along the rocky stream. He knew that, in time, when the bear grew into his full strength, he would climb the cliff more easily than any creature living.

All strength comes in time, he thought, as he looked again at the tired, panting form. Endurance is gained by enduring.

"Feeling stronger?" Aramus asked, after a moment.

Kaleel nodded, having recovered slightly. He looked at Aramus, focusing, as if truly seeing the wolf for the first time.

"Thank you," he said in a weary voice, but calmer than Aramus had heard it before. "I didn't think
… I'd make it."

Aramus laughed. "We're always stronger than we think."

Kaleel stared at him, wonder touching his weariness.

"You are brave," he said.

Aramus continued to smile, and then the silver eyes blinked slowly.

"No," he said quietly. "Not brave. I know fear a lot better than I know courage. Not too long ago I thought that my days of
fear were over. But now I know. But I'm a lot stronger than I used to be. Now I just want to live what I believe—"

Aramus hesitated, his face suddenly more noble, more beautiful, yet sad with a sadness that transcended words. Kaleel sensed the change, the solemn pain that descended upon the silver brow.

"What is it?" the bear asked.

Aramus lowered his head, as if his thoughts were too much to endure, too much altogether.

"But there's a price to pay for living what you believe," the wolf said softly, and closed his eyes. "I have seen the bravest fall ... the bravest... the best."

Kaleel rested beside the wolf, not understanding the words but finding peace and strength in the companion' ship.

Aramus shook his head.

"1 wasn't ready for this," he said. "I've made too many mistakes. It was right to stand beside you on the hill, but we shouldn't have rested. We should have pushed on through the night. We could have made it to the North. And we shouldn't have followed the stream for so long. It trapped us and led us to this place."

Aramus looked again at the land before them. The sun was still high, but its fierce heat did not descend upon the rocky edge of the chasm. The place seemed remote from the world, submerged beneath a separate chill that conquered the day with disturbing strength. Aramus studied the forest cautiously. The trees seemed cloaked with a defiant cold, a cold that refused to retreat before the light of day. It was almost as if they stood beside a vast, eternal grave, shrouded by a pale darkness, invisible with the day but which would come alive with the night, ruling this dying land.

"I don't even know where we are," Aramus said quietly. "I've never seen this part of the Deep Woods before, and I don't like it. There's no life in this place. Nothing. Maybe we can—"

Howling fiendishly a dark wolf leaped over the edge of the chasm. Aramus roared and twisted desperately to evade the form, but its jaws tore a deep wound in his side. Aramus staggered back and fell, realizing bitterly that he had made even another mistake by failing to maintain a lookout on the gorge below.

He saw the next two movements as if they were one. The snarling black shape leaped upon him again, and then Kaleel was there, roaring and leaping forward in a single motion to strike the demonic shape full across the breast, impaling it upon his great, curved claws. The bear's mountainous strength continued the blow, hurling the creature far over the edge of the ravine, and a dying howl descended with the beast.

Instantly Aramus was on his feet.

"Run!" he shouted, sensing injury and defeat together, cursing himself for his carelessness. But Kaleel was already charging down the slope.

Aramus leaped to the cliff to chance a quick glance over the edge and caught the shocking sight of dark wolves swarming up the granite face, sinister in their silent attack.

Instantly Aramus was after Kaleel, feeling in his heart that doom was upon them. He passed the bear before it reached the trees, and turned back to see another dark shape leap atop the cliff. As the wolf caught sight of them, it unleashed a horrendous howl that boomed down the slope, reverberating against the dead trees.

"Hurry!" Aramus shouted.

Kaleel thundered past him, sweeping into the forest
, and together they ran, searching for a defensive position as more cries blasted from the ridge. And in moments they burst through the barren stand, emerging into a small clearing dominated by a low, windswept hill.

"We'll fight them on the hill!" Aramus shouted.

They climbed the low ascent until they stood on the highest tactical ground, ready to meet the bloody assault. And together they turned as they reached the crest to behold malignant black forms exploding from the desolate stand, howls blasting through the glade.

Enraged, Aramus snarled savagely at the onrushing pack, and Kaleel towered upon hind legs, lowering his head to roar thunderously. The bear struck eagerly at the air, foam flecking the fiercesome, gaping fangs, its great strength aroused once more.

Slowing at the base of the hill, the wolves advanced as one force, rolling forward in a black tide of hated shapes.

Kaleel's first great blow caught a fiendish form in midair, hurling the dark creature aside. And Aramus tensed to charge at an advancing wolf, prepared to die
beside his friend, when suddenly he felt something attacking from behind. Aramus whirled, far ahead of conscious thought, to glimpse a gigantic lion, if lion it could be called, descending upon Kaleel.

Sensing the attack, the bear spun, paws uplifted to strike. Yet even as Kaleel saw the horrific beast des
cending upon him, he staggered back, as if struck by some unseen force. The lion's massive foreleg appeared to lash out, too quick to follow with sight, and Kaleel's head was hit with a thunderous blow. As dead, the bear sprawled across the slope, a roar dying in his throat.

Aramus cried out as Kaleel rolled down the hillside, broken and unconscious, but he was unable to determine if his friend was dead or alive. Then Aramus had no more time to think as the lion turned toward him, and he knew its identity.

Incomel.

Aramus's silver eyes hardened above a defiant snarl.

More powerful, more loathsome than any mountain lion Aramus had ever known, the beast advanced with sinuous, measured steps. Massive and black, the huge rolling muscles of its gigantic form coiled and swelled with each imperious step, flexing with unimaginable strength; strength never used and never needed to destroy anything that lived. And an aspect of violence cloaked its entire essence; a visible violence born from violent needs and flamed hot by the pure release of deadly force, and death. The beast advanced until it stood before Aramus, horrible in its stillness, even its motionless stance whispering of unearthly power and strength.

The lion's gaze burned, shifting in shades, as if a thousand demonic lights danced within. Then it tilted its massive head and spoke.

"So ... we stand against each other," the deep voice intoned, echoing with suppressed strength. "A brave servant of the Lightmaker and a poor, deceived servant of the Dark Lord. Which one of us shall leave this lonely place?"

Aramus said nothing, but he knew this was the end of his life. His hopes were as dead as he soon would be.

Incomel laughed, leaving even the daylight distant and pale with its malignant presence. Aramus sensed that the wind had fallen still, as if held back by some sinister force.

Aramus searched for words to signal his defiance, but all he could remember were those closest to his heart; his fiercest faith, his strongest love. For all else passed away before the beast.

"I am Aramus," he said, "son of Gianavel, a servant of the Lightmaker. And—"

Incomel snarled, trembling the ground beneath them
and Aramus instinctively dropped lower in his stance, snarling in return, flaming with fear.

Incomel laughed mockingly.

"What do you believe?" it rasped.

Aramus saw nothing but the great, distended fangs. Fearfully he weighed his words before he spoke.

"I am a servant ... of the Lightmaker."

Aramus never saw the blow that struck him but the thunderous impact hurled him from the ridge. In the next instant he was sprawling wildly down the hillside, spinning and careening off dark wolves
that scattered beneath his chaotic descent. Then he reached the base, crashing heavily into a granite slab.

Dazed and disoriented, Aramus staggered blindly to his feet, unable to find the direction from which he had come. He stood on shocked legs, struggling painfully for breath even as a lancing wound pierced his side. He swayed unsteadily, catching brief, shallow snatches of air with each heaving effort. And through a red haze he saw Incomel standing before him again.

Its malevolent eyes burned with sadistic pleasure, measuring his agony. And its quiet words seethed with hate.

"What do you believe?"

Aramus blinked, barely beginning to catch his breath, and he felt his ribs bleeding from the piercing talons. Without thought a snarl distorted his face as he cast his words.

"I am
... a servant—"

Aramus saw the blow this time and spun sideways
but Incomel was lightning and the great force caught him across the neck. For a whirling, timeless instant Aramus felt as if he had been snatched up by a storm, spun through the air in a twisting wind, and smashed against the earth. He did not know how he landed, or where, but the bruising concussion left him dazed, on his side, his silver mane covered with dust. Dimly conscious, unable to speak, unable to think, Aramus struggled numbly to his feet and saw the lion before him again, its eyes glimmering with cruel mirth.

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