Master Wolf

by Rose Estes

  Sprawled on the ground next to the giant was the princess, her pink silk gown in disarray, exposing her slender, delicate legs from the knees down. Her hair was charmingly mussed, framing her beautiful face with clouds of shimmering black curls that cascaded down her chest, modestly covering her bosom, which rose and fell in a most provocative manner.

  Mika would have liked to have examined her longer, and closer for that matter, but she appeared to be alive and well, albeit still asleep, so he reluctantly turned his eyes toward the third figure in the strange tableaux.

  Lying on the ground furthest from Mika, on the far side of the princess, was Hary, who lay with his arms and legs akimbo. His bright blue eyes were staring up at the sky, unseeing, glazed with that terrible vague opacity that belongs only to death. A long-handled knife, which Mika easily identified as belonging to the giant, was buried to the hilt in the center of his chest. Clutched in his right hand was a heavy tree limb covered with gore.

  It was too much to take in. Especially for a man with a headache that he didn’t even know how he got. Mika’s knees wobbled and he put a shaky hand out and sat down on the ground, staring at the bizarre trio, still trying to make some sense out of the situation.

  “Well, they must have killed each other,” he said, slowly. “That much is obvious.”

  Tam looked at him sideways as though thinking that even he could have deduced as much.

  “But why?” asked Mika. “Why would they fight? I thought they were friends. The only one they disliked was me! I don’t understand this at all. I don’t even know what happened to me, much less them. Hornsbuck will never believe me!” groaned Mika.

  Suddenly a series of sharp yapping barks burst on them, followed by a shrill ululation of victory. The gnolls!

  So wrapped up had he been in the pain of his head and then the terrible discovery of the bodies, that he had actually forgotten why they were alone on the ridge and what they were supposed to be doing.

  Sounds carried well in the cold clear air, and he sat there on the dank ground and hugged his knees as he listened in sick horror to the ravening cries of hyenas and gnolls running their luckless prey to earth.

  There was a clash of steel on steel, a short fight, then desperate screams, both human and horse. Finally, there was only the sound of hyenas fighting over the scraps of flesh.

  There was no way of telling how close the creatures were, but it was obvious that they were on the mountainside.

  “Close, Tam,” whispered Mika. “Too close. Maybe the next ridge over. We’d better get out of here before they find us, too.” And all the while he wondered who the gnolls had gotten, whether it was Hornsbuck or one of the others he had known and liked.

  It hurt his head to bend over, but fear of the gnolls drove him on. He leaned over and slid his arms under the princess. He straightened up and the princess hung from his arms like a sack of stones. A pretty sack of stones.

  “By the Great She Wolf, she’s heavy,” grunted Mika as he began dragging the princess over to the horses. He tried to lift her up onto the roan, but she hung from his arms limply, without any stiffness in her backbone.

  He took a deep breath and tried to heave her up over the saddle. She slid back down and lay in a heap at his feet.

  Muttering more loudly now, Mika got down on his hands and knees and positioned the princess until she was sitting on his shoulder. He grabbed her wrists and held on tight. Then, slowly, he got to his knees with the princess wobbling on his shoulder like a drunken parrot. A heavy drunken parrot. He got to his feet and stood up slowly. Slowly, slowly, he allowed the princess to fall over the saddle. He placed a hand on her back to hold her steady. Then, just as he was reaching for his belt to tie her in place, she began to slide. Forward.

  Mika made a grab, but the slippery silk just whispered through his fingers like wind through trees and the princess slid over the saddle and landed on the ground on the far side of the horse with a meaty thump.

  Mika winced. “I’m not the only one who’s going to have a headache,” he said to Tam. “She certainly will, too, if she ever wakes up. She’s pretty, all right, but is she worth all this fuss? Damn, she’s heavy!”

  With gnolls and hyenas wailing inspirational music in the background, Mika was stirred to brilliance. Using his belt, he lashed the princess’s wrists together and then tied Hary’s scarf around the belt. Positioning himself on one side of the horse and the princess on the other side, he laboriously hauled her over the saddle and then, passing the scarf under the horse’s belly, tied it round her ankles.

  Mika stepped back, breathing hard, and examined his handiwork. The princess was secure, even if she did look like a pink silk sack of wheat. Tam began to whine nervously, his ears twitched forward, and he danced from one foot to the other.

  “Gnolls, eh?” Mika asked, looking down the flank of the hill, following the direction of Tam’s gaze.

  “Then we’d best be going,” he said as he leaped onto the grey. “We’ve been lucky to escape them this long. At least these two will buy us some time.”

  The horses were nervous too. The whites of their eyes rolled and their ears were pasted flat to their heads. The grey tried to rear and, showing some of his old spunk, swung his head around and tried to bite Mika’s leg. Mika yanked the reins hard, sawing the grey’s head in the other direction. He slashed him hard on the flanks. Then he dug his heels into the horse’s ribs and the grey bounded forward as though shot by an arrow.

  Mika held the roan’s reins in his hand, forcing it to follow his lead. Together they plunged up the steep hill, into the shadow of the trees, and with the cries of gnolls and hyenas echoing in their ears, raced for safety.

  Chapter 15

  THE SLOPES RANG with the screeching yowls of the gnolls and the horrible yapping of the hyenas. Mika could tell when they succeeded in cornering and ultimately dragging down some hapless human by the terrible cries of the victims. Wolf howls cascaded down the slopes periodically before they too ended abruptly, and Mika knew that wolves and nomads were dying.

  He tried to close his ears to the horrible cries, knowing that people he knew and cared about were being killed. He said a prayer to the Great Wolf Mother that Hornsbuck was not among them and asked for guidance in setting his own course.

  Several times, unable to bear the anguished cries, he had pulled the grey up hard, on the point of turning and riding to help, only to realize that it was useless. There was no way of telling where the battle was being fought, and by the time he found it, it would be too late. His misguided chivalry would only serve to endanger the princess, as well as himself. His mouth was set in grim concentration as he raced into the oncoming night, shying from every dark shadow as though it sheltered the enemy.

  There seemed to be safety in no direction; the gnolls were closing in on him rapidly. Their ominous tramping could now be heard flanking him on either side.

  Now the earth rose steeply on Mika’s right, forcing him lower on the steep ridge. Mika knew that it would be death should they descend farther, and he pushed the horses on, fighting them at every turn, causing them to skitter and plunge across dangerous slopes they would never have attempted of their own volition in daylight.

  The moon, tiny sliver that it was, rose over a cruel landscape. The trees were below them now, and a cold wind keened harshly across a barren vista of sharp rocks and sheer drops.

  They rode along a narrow path, no real trail, but an eroded watercourse that flowed from the crest of the peak. The land was steeply pitched on either side, bare stone that caused the horses’ hooves to clatter loudly, reverberating in the confines of the narrow defile.

  Mika cursed to himself, wishing he had time to dismount and muffle the horses’ hooves with cloth, fearful that the enemy would hear them. As though in answer to his fears, there came a demonic laugh, followed by the familiar cackling yap. Hyenas!

  Looking behind him, Mika saw large round eyes glowing yellow in the cold moonlight. Their long sharp canines
, so well adapted for ripping and tearing, gleamed white through the froth of spittle that drooled from their open mouths. Their backs humped forward between their shoulder blades, and their backsides sloped away into insignificant hindquarters that were shorter and far less powerful than their front legs.

  The lead hyena spotted its quarry and stopped short. Lowering its massive bear-like head till it nearly touched the ground, it uttered a low mournful howl that was echoed by its three foul companions. The howling grew louder and louder as the pitch rose till it seemed to fill the narrow defile, bouncing from one side to the other. Then it broke off and became a demented cackle that caused the hair to rise all over Mika’s body.

  The grey reared, neighing hysterically, and lunged forward, nearly toppling Mika from the saddle. Mika gripped the pommel and hung on as the grey thundered up the trail, dragging the roan behind him.

  The hyenas broke into their strange gait, moving the legs on one side of their bodies in opposition to the legs on the other side. Strange it might have been, and reminiscent of the gnolls’ own shambling gait, but it got them where they wanted to go, and fast.

  If it had been a matter of speed only, the hyenas might have caught them, but ironically their fearful din spurred the horses on. Mika added his cries to those of the hyenas and beat both horses with the flat of his sword. He had no desire to die in the jaws of such low creatures. Even Tam ran like the wind beside the horses; there was no honor in fighting carrion-eaters such as these.

  The horses were breathing hard now, froth blowing from their nostrils, but they were breaking from the hyenas, pulling away steadily.

  The peak was before them now, the saddle clearly outlined against the star-filled sky. Mika urged the horses on, driving them cruelly. Later, there would be time to rest. Later.

  Then, clearly outlined against the starry sky, two hump-backed figures appeared on the ridge and stood waiting, one swinging a sharp-edged, double-headed axe and the other a four-foot-long two-handed sword. Gnolls.

  Mika’s heart sank like a plummeting rock as he pulled the grey up hard. But the grey wasn’t having any of it. Head down, driven beyond fear into a fear-induced madness, he seized the bit between his large yellow teeth and, ignoring Mika’s command, galloped on.

  It didn’t matter in the slightest that two large gnolls, each standing seven foot tall and weighing at least three hundred pounds, stood directly in his path. The grey did not discern that they were covered with shaggy hair and had low jutting brows. Nor did he care that they had massive jaws filled with sharp teeth that inspired fear in the most reckless of men. None of that mattered to the grey, for they were dressed in leather tunics and had man-like shapes. To the grey, they appeared as humans. Big humans.

  What did matter was that the grey was being pursued by hyenas. The grey understood hyenas and still bore scars on one flank from a hyena attack suffered when he was a mere colt still running free on the plains. He had survived, but many of his band had not. The stink of urine, blood, and carrion clung to the hyenas and filled the grey’s nostrils, reminding him of that day of death so long ago. He ran from them with the fear of madness, and it mattered not that man-things stood in his way.

  Screaming his fear of the hyenas and his hatred of humans, the grey put down his head and charged.

  The gnolls were startled. Clearly, they did not expect such a thing to happen. Nothing ever attacked them by choice! The gnoll on the left narrowed its eyes and lowered its sword, bracing the hilt against its body. The gnoll on the right appeared slightly less certain, but following its companion’s lead, planted its feet firmly on the rocky trail and raised its battle axe above its head.

  “No! No! Stop!” screamed Mika, yanking on the reins in desperation. But the grey ignored him and barreled into the gnolls at full speed.

  The gnoll that stood directly in front of them was crushed beneath the grey’s hooves, its hard skull splitting like an overripe yarpick fruit, its squat body mangled beyond gnoll-mother recognition. But not before it had driven its sword into the grey’s chest.

  Even now, impaled on the awful blade, the grey wreaked death, unleashing his old hatred of man on the second man-thing that stood there, still holding the battle axe overhead, too stunned to move. That small hesitation was the gnoll’s undoing, for the grey lashed out with one sharp-edged unshod hoof and opened the leather-clad figure from breastbone to navel.

  The gnoll looked down, unbelieving, as its intestines slid out of its belly in slow, sinuous, slimy loops. It dropped its arms, the axe forgotten, and tried to replace its guts, stuffing them back into a cavity that now seemed too small to hold them.

  The gnoll stared down, its eyes wide with pain and disbelief, and for a second, its eyes met Mika’s. Mika almost felt sorry for the creature, but then it no longer mattered, for the grey, feeling the cold steel twisting in his vitals, stumbled and went down, driving the sword still further into his body. But as he did, he carried the gnoll with him, its face crushed between his strong square teeth.

  Mika had no time to be thankful for the death of the gnolls, for hard on his heels came the pursuing hyenas. The roan reared and screamed, and the salty stink of blood, both horse and gnoll, lay pungent on the cold night air.

  Mika clung to the reins that dangled from the roan’s bridle as he disengaged himself from the dying grey. He was thankful that the grey had not fallen on his side and pinned him beneath his great weight. He was certain that the grey would have done so, had he thought of it, carrying his diabolic hatred of man beyond him into death.

  Mika scrambled to his feet and tugged the roan’s head down as he attempted to mount, but the roan reared hysterically, screaming in fear and clawing out with his sharp hooves, refusing to be calmed as the hyenas slunk closer. The princess was dangling securely, still asleep, blithely ignorant of what was going on around her. Mika shoved her forward and swung behind her on the roan’s back. He gave the horse a vicious kick. Still he reared and bucked but did not move forward.

  Tam leaped in front of the hyenas, positioning himself in front of Mika, shielding the roan from the hyenas. Mika fought to bring the horse under control, hoping that the four predators would not be too much for Tam to handle.

  Tam dropped his head and raised his dewlaps, exposing his black gums lined with sharp teeth, capable of killing even a hyena. He stalked forward on stiff legs, emitting a harsh, deep, guttural growl full of menace that would have sent a lesser creature running in fear for its life.

  But hyenas feared little and certainly not a lone wolf. Spitting out their own eerie cries that prefaced a clash, their short bear-like faces with upturned blunt noses seemed to grin in appreciation of the feast to come. Their ungainly bodies leaned forward in hump-backed anticipation. Their spotted, mangy fur and leering expression gave them a comedic look, but as they spread out around Tam and began to circle, Mika was in no way inclined to laughter.

  Their actions caused Tam to circle as well, but no matter which way he turned, one of them was always at his back. If he advanced, jaws snapping ferociously, the hyena behind him slashed out with razor-sharp teeth.

  They harried Tam back and forth between them, cutting, slashing, nipping, biting. And always when he attacked, they were not there, sliding away from him like ghosts. Had he been able to grasp one, he would have found himself holding nothing but loose folds of skin that swung loosely in his jaws. This worked to the hyenas’ advantage, for while the wolf was futily biting excess skin, the hyena would twist around and seize the wolf in its powerful jaws. This was the beginning of the end, for the hyena’s jaws were extremely strong, and once they bit down, they seldom let go. While he held on, his companions would rip the victim to shreds before it even realized its desperate plight.

  Tam was bleeding from a dozen wounds before Mika succeeded in bullying the roan through the circle of vicious hyenas. “Go, Tam, go!” he hollered, leaning down and lashing his sword at the hyenas.

  Tam turned and ran, leaping over the carcass of t
he grey and the mangled gnolls. Mika skewered one of the hyenas on his sword, then flung it, still yapping, into the midst of its companions.

  Another of the hyenas leaped for the soft unprotected swell of the roan’s belly, but Mika swung and sliced its head off neatly. Hot blood spurted from the stump of the thick neck, drenching his leg and the roan’s side. The two remaining hyenas were momentarily distracted by their fallen comrades, which they tore into with ravenous hunger. Mika kicked the roan harder as they plummeted over the peak, the shrill shrieking of the hyenas loud in his ears, as he caromed down the opposite side of the ridge. The hyenas were left behind, feasting on their own dead and wounded.

  Mika gulped as the pale moonlight illuminated the sheer slopes below them, throwing the sharp upthrust boulders, the smooth sliding scree, and abrupt cliffs into contrasts of black and white. Tam, torn and bleeding profusely, teetered on the edge and looked up at Mika with stricken eyes before plunging downward.

  The roan quivered beneath Mika as he tried to steer him across a deceptively smooth expanse of gravel that appeared safer than the alternative, a rocky stretch of ground strewn with fist-sized stones. A sudden nameless intuition caused him to drop the reins, allowing the roan his head, allowing him to make his own choices.

  The roan swerved at the last moment, avoiding the smooth talus, choosing instead, the rocky ledge above it. As he jumped, the weight of his impact dislodged a small stone which fell onto the gravel below. instantly, the whole mass started to slide, moving faster and faster, picking up speed and sweeping everything in its path before it as it thundered down the dark slope.

  Mika had only a moment to view the catastrophe before the roan leaped again, plunging down the ridge from one tenuous bit of safe footing to the next. Had Mika not given the roan its head, they too would now be at the foot of the slope, buried beneath tons of rock and gravel.

  Mika shuddered and held onto the pommel tightly. Tam raced to keep up with them, blood streaming darkly from a multitude of wounds. Mika could see that Tam was tiring, but there was nothing he could do. Their only hope was to keep going until they reached the bottom.