A Wolf Story (17 page)

fourteen

Corbis growled, trembling rock deep into the mountain and sending a heated wave of concentrated hate to the cavernous walls, charging the atmosphere until the air vibrated with murderous intent.

Gianavel alone was undaunted and returned a savage snarl, fully into the face of the Beast. And Aramus, awakened from his shock by his father's stance, was instantly beside the old wolf, fangs clicking fiendishly in defiance.

Corbis glared upon them, cold and overpowering, the proud image of primeval might. Then the hateful gaze blazed with scornful mirth as dark wolves suddenly swept in from the myriad corridors, thronging the Abyss.

Instantly Gianavel and Aramus were back to back, with Kaleel turning also to face outward against their
encircling foes. And Windgate fell to the middle of the trio, helpless against such powerful beasts.

A cacophony of roars and screams thundered across the Abyss as the opposing forces waged a ghostly war of attacks thrown and attacks withdrawn, with never fang meeting flesh.

Gianavel's bristling presence threw their attackers back a wide space. For even though the dark horde knew that, in force, they could drag the old wolf to the ground, they also knew that the first to touch that gray shape would surely die.

Aramus imitated his father, learning breath by breath how to stand in such a fight. And Kaleel repeatedly struck at elusive shapes that leapt in and out, reluctant to receive the impact of those crushing paws. For a spellbinding moment the battle raged until a thunderous command shattered the chaos.

"Hold!" roared Corbis.

Instantly the dark wolves responded to the brutal voice, obediently falling back, tension slowly fading from the snarling faces. And after a moment the surrounded servants of the Lightmaker stood within a narrow gap of safety, clear to turn their attention from the wolves to the Beast that commanded them.

"At last we meet ... the great Gianavel!" Corbis growled, breathless. "I am ... amazed ... that you have survived so long. Speak with me, old wolf, before I destroy you! Make me afraid! Reveal to me the strength that makes proud Incomel tremble!"

Gianavel turned his dauntless head toward Corbis. Yet the old wolf did not speak, his entire aspect smoldering with an intensity of wrath that rendered him speechless while simultaneously communicating an unconquerable resistance. And then slowly, with a rising control, Gianavel's electrifying rage seemed to lessen, calmed by the spirit that never lost dominion over that disciplined flesh. And the gray eyes gazed upon the Beast, measuring something, some argument to come, seeming to know already the direction of words yet unspoken and perceiving the bitter outcome.

Gianavel's stance was as solid as his words.

"Incomel feared me because he knew the spirit within me proclaimed his doom," he growled. "As it proclaims yours."

Visibly moved in his dark aspect, Corbis glared upon them. The Beast seemed to search Gianavel's words, and the malevolent gaze wavered, as if beholding something beyond the Abyss.

"Can it be?" whispered Corbis, shaken. "Incomel
... destroyed?"

Gianavel nodded, the gray face stern.
"Incomel is dead," he said coldly. "And he was not cast down by flesh. It was the one least in strength who lured the lion to his doom."

Corbis focused scornfully upon Windgate.

"O ... most horrible," the Beast whispered. "The weak have destroyed the strong."

Gianavel's quiet voice rang unnaturally clear into every corner of the cavern.

"As it was meant to be, Corbis. And it was not mortal strength that defeated the lion. It was the power of the Lightmaker that delivered his doom. For your evil has caught up to you, Beast. Despite our weakness and your great strength, I proclaim to you that, from this night forward, the Dark Council will terrify no more. Even tonight, in this very hour, you yourself will be destroyed, struck down by the wrath of God."

Corbis's dark gaze clouded, as with a gathering thunderstorm. And a silent rage danced like crimson flames in the hateful eyes. Imperceptibly, the colossus crouched, a visible strength building volcanically in its enormous form.

Soundlessly, from the shadow of the giant bear, Baalkor stalked forth, hideous head lowered and murderous gaze burning red in the gloom. As ferocious, as horrible as before, Baalkor fixed a hungry stare upon Aramus and separated its savage fangs, smiling.

Even as he caught sight of the dark wolf, Aramus snarled, mane bristling. And in a defiant struggle they tested strength of soul and spirit, growls vibrating the granite floor that stretched between them.

Aramus realized, even as he reacted, that he was no longer afraid of the dark wolf. And he struggled not to leap forward into battle, knowing that he should not move until his father moved. For wisdom must lead, not strength. And with the thought he began to still his growl, slowing the shuddering vibrations until he stood again in silence, his eyes locked against Baalkor's.

Corbis ignored the deadly tension, continuing to glare balefully upon Gianavel.

"Strength is on our side, old wolf," he growled. "Your God has forsaken you!"

Gianavel frowned at the Beast.

"We will see who is forsaken," he said.

"Your God has forsaken you!" roared Corbis, stepping forward. "What do you see,
Gianavel? Tell me what you see! You are surrounded. There is no one to defend you against my strength. The Lightmaker is not here! He is not here because your heart is evil! Yes, Gianavel, you are evil! Behold, old wolf! Behold the darkness that rules your heart! Behold the power of the Dark Lord!"

Corbis's incarnate power swept across the Abyss, and the darkness wavered, trembling with the force unleashed within. The shadows moved, condensing about Gianavel, shrouding him in darkness, focusing the full persuasive power of its hellish intensity upon the great gray wolf.

Aramus watched as Corbis swayed in the gloom, his dark soul becoming one with the otherworldly force that descended upon his father.

Gianavel stood motionless, the gray face unreadable, holding Corbis's demonic gaze. Then, still glaring at the Beast, the great wolf lowered his head, and it seemed as if a mortal cloak suddenly fell away, revealing an awesome and unearthly presence, beyond the world's power to defy or destroy. Instantly the darkness
surrounding the old wolf faded, fleeing into the shadows of the Abyss.

Gianavel smiled.

"The Dark Lord has no power over me, Corbis."

Roaring, the Beast smashed a gigantic paw upon a granite slab, and the stone shattered at the impact, sending a shock wave to the cavernous walls.

"You are a fool, Gianavel!" roared Corbis. "You are a fool! Do you really think your pitiful strength can conquer the Dark Lord! You are weak! Your kind have always been weak! I will destroy you!"

"Know this, Corbis!" snarled Gianavel, mane bristling with the words. "The Lightmaker will destroy you tonight! And flesh shall not bring you down! Despite your great strength, the Lightmaker proclaims that the Dark Council will terrify no more!"

A madness possessed the Beast even as Gianavel's words were spoken, and the creature roared forth from the darkness, emerging fully in the ghastly light.

Scorning all strength but its own, Corbis towered in the Abyss. As if carved from black granite, its flesh was displayed; flesh hard with rocklike strength and armored within a thick mane of shaggy fur. And its limbs, heavy and massi
ve with muscle, flexed, commanding the power to shatter stone and mountain alike. At the end of the massive paws, threatening stands of razorlike claws extended into the air, keen and cruel, unnaturally long and gleaming with an edge that knew no resistance in earthly substance.

Corbis's colossal head looked down upon them, and the great fangs parted, revealing arching rows of white death. Then a thunderous growl gathered intensity, trembling the mountain deep into the earth, until the hideous jaws savagely separated, blasting a deafening roar across them. The hot wave submerged Aramus within its hateful wrath, and his snarl was lost in the dark wind that swept past.

"Now you will know strength, Gianavel!" A fiendish howl hurled from the rear of the cavern tore through the Abyss, a howl of pain and escape, followed by the chaotic cries of a savage conflict. Automatically Aramus spun toward the wounded cry before realizing that, despite the violent distraction, Gianavel had never taken his eyes off Corbis. Understanding instantly, Aramus whirled back toward his father and the Beast, and though he stood only a heartbeat away, he could never say which moved first, or fastest.

* * *

fifteen

Corbis struck a rending blow, but Gianavel was no longer there, leaping sideways to evade the great black claws that slashed a murderous arc through the darkened air.

Aramus snatched Windgate up with a blinding movement that evaded Baalkor's crushing rush and was gone, bounding long to land before a wall of snarling dark wolves that barred his way. With steel strength Aramus hit the floor and launched himself high again, carrying the helpless hare far over the heads of the encircling wolves to land lightly upon the throne of Corbis. In a flash he dropped Windgate over the far side to land unharmed, far from the raging battle.

"Hide!" said Aramus, and Windgate was gone, vanishing amidst the rubble as only he could do.

Aramus whirled, and in a flashing moment saw that the Elders of the Gray Wolves had finally arrived,
charging into the Abyss through the hidden entrance that Windgate and Gianavel had followed. Across the length and breadth of the cavern the gray wolves clinched and closed with demonic shapes, and the air resounded with roars and screams and desperate cries. But Aramus had no more time to behold the sight. He turned toward Gianavel, knowing that his father would be fighting savagely with Corbis, only to see Death upon him in a hurtling rush.

Baalkor struck him full force, blasting Aramus from the throne and into the roaring air beyond. Aramus locked up with the dark wolf even as they sailed through space, and before they crashed to the granite floor they were revolving in a merciless exchange of slashing blows.

Aramus twisted violently before they struck the stone, punishing Baalkor with the impact. And then they were gone, slashing with blows that, had even one struck true, would have ended the battle with its killing force. But in the swirling, spinning, maelstrom of movement each saw the other's blow and evaded, by the slightest, flashing margin, that measure of accuracy that would have severed his neck.

So involved was Aramus in the battle that he had no time to think of his father. Baalkor was all over him, snarling and striking with a fury flamed by rage from his earlier defeat. And Aramus returned the same with a fighting skill he had never known, not even in their earlier conflict. For then, even in his rage, he had been afraid of the dark wolf, and the fear had tied up his heart and mind. Nor had he been experienced in the art
of war. Now, with a purity of heart and a freedom of mind, Aramus forced the battle to the beast, unleashing his purer intensity with a directness of movement that struck unimpeded by fear or the rage that blinds. He struck deep, and he struck true, and his shining silver eyes never left the target of his wrath.

Yet despite his fie
rce intensity Aramus heard a familiar howl tear through the dusky air. Struck by the sound, he violently threw Baalkor back to gain a space and glared across the chamber.

Upon the dark throne Corbis reared above the fallen Gianavel, injured at last. The bear roared triumphantly, and Aramus turned toward the throne. Then Baalkor was on him again, the stunning impact taking Aramus in a slashing frenzy across the cavern floor, rolling in a deadly embrace with the beast until they disappeared into the tunnel beyond.

♦    ♦    ♦

"Die, Gianavel!" roared Corbis, the black claws raised high above the wounded form. "Now you know why the Dark Lord rules the Earth!"

Windgate was before Corbis even as Gianavel saw the big hare leap upon the dark throne. Corbis, astonished, glared down at the hare, as if unable to comprehend the defiant act.

"Doom is upon you, Corbis!" shouted Windgate, raising onto hind legs to face the Beast. "Saul's death has destroyed you!"

Corbis roared, claws descending, but the hare leaped straight between the treelike legs to land behind the Beast. Then an avalanche of gray wolves, led by the ancient Razul, descended upon the dark throne in a roaring storm.

In a spinning silver wheel they revolved around the Beast, striking and tearing with disciplined skill, drawing the monster's attention from their fallen king until Gianavel finally staggered up from the bloody throne to launch himself again into the attack.

Corbis was cascaded with gray, fearsome wolves of hardened strength that struck true and leaped away—old wolves skilled in war and dauntless in courage. Yet twice the descending black claws cut though the smoking air and caught a massive gray shape, hurling the Elder through the air to land limply in the dust. And with each death the others increased the raging attack, slashing all that they could reach of the towering shape. They leaped boldly upon the Beast, striking at neck and head and face to drag the monster to the ground. And even more were wounded in the effort, hurled through the air and broken by the fearsome jaws until, finally tearing loose from a swarm of dark wolves on the cavern floor, Kaleel leaped upon the throne and ascended the steps with a directness of purpose that tore Corbis's attention from his attackers.

Gianavel saw Kaleel's intent and knew that Corbis would crush the smaller bear with its first shattering blow. And with the thought the old wolf leaped high to strike Corbis, slashing a wound above a glaring eye.

Corbis roared and swung a powerful paw through the air, smashing Gianavel against the wall. And then Kaleel struck, the lean claws cutting an arc through the pale light to slice across Corbis's neck. And the blow continued, the claws tearing a deep path through fur and flesh and whatever was beneath to enter the air in a trail of black haze.

Roaring demonically, Corbis wheeled and returned the blow. Its massive paw lashed out and caught Kaleel in the chest, blasting the smaller bear from the throne with the thunderous impact, and Kaleel screamed as he crashed across the cavern floor.

Then Corbis turned against the gray wolves with an insanity of wrath that ignored all pain and drove him relentlessly after Gianavel. As one force the Elders fought back, knowing Corbis's singular desire to slay their king, while Corbis pressed forward in his hellish power, striking gray forms from the throne and the air with uncanny skill.

♦    ♦    ♦

Aramus cast a desperate glance past Baalkor to see the fantastic battle on the throne. Elders swirled about Corbis, but were falling quickly before the killing blows that split the air with rending cries of violent death. And Aramus knew that, if not finished soon, Corbis would live to finish Gianavel, and perhaps all of them.

Baalkor struck him again and Aramus went back beneath the weight. Together they rolled, each striking
desperately for the blow that would finish the fight and end at last this hated conflict. Aramus retreated before Baalkor's slashing storm, breath heaving in gasps as he struggled to survive. Deep fatigue made his legs slow to respond and his eyes were blurred with the exhausting effort of the fight.

"You were a fool to stand against me!" growled Baalkor between blows. "I'll kill you like I killed Saul!"

Aramus's silver eyes blazed.

"Saul defeated you!" he snarled. "And I defeated you!"

Baalkor roared and struck him again, slashing deep. Aramus returned the blow but fell back again, retreating even further into the tunnel, away from Gianavel who was struggling to regain his feet on the throne.

"Corbis is killing your father!" roared Baalkor, laugh' ing. "Help him! All you have to do is
...
GET
...
PAST
...
ME
!

Another injured howl from Gianavel tore through the tomb.

"Father!" screamed Aramus.

Baalkor struck again, forcing Aramus back before its superior strength. Livid with rage, Aramus slashed the dark wolf high in its scarred face, and Baalkor
instinctively stepped back. Hope flaming at the reaction, Aramus pressed his attack, and Baalkor began to slowly retreat.

Aramus increased his force, striking blow upon blow, and Baalkor was dr
iven before the onslaught. Somewhere in the enveloping pain Aramus lost all touch with the earth, knowing only heat and blood and the burning of his exhausted flesh. There was only the blow, the lunge,, the slash, even as a consuming heaviness began to overcome his defiant will. But in his fierce love Aramus ignored the pain and forced his flesh to do what must be done, driving the dark prince before him until finally they stood in the entrance of the Abyss.

Aramus faltered, hesitating at last, his lungs burning as deeply as wounds had ever burned his flesh. And Baalkor swayed in the tunnel gloom, still blocking his way while slashed to pieces by his wrath. Aramus' face twisted in disbelief, and he knew that if he did not strike a finishing blow, the dark wolf's endless strength would outlast him.

"You cannot kill me," snarled Baalkor, breathing heavily. "I'll live to kill you, and then your father. Your love ... makes you weak."

Silver eyes narrowed at the words and Aramus snarled, lowering his head, focusing on the dark wolf. This was the end, he knew, for a fight so terrible could not endure.

Aramus leaped, bridging the gap without warning. He feinted high, then lunged beneath Baalkor's defense and tore open its chest. Aramus felt ribs and flesh surrender to the blow, and the dark wolf staggered back, howling a mortal cry. Distracted by the crippling pain, Baalkor never saw the fangs that closed upon his foreleg. A wrenching twist of powerful jaws snapped the leg and Aramus instantly released, evading the returning slash that missed his face by a narrow edge.

Roaring in pain, Baalkor reared back, snarling, and the maddened eyes blazed at Aramus, who edged closer.

Baalkor cast a wild look over his shoulder.

"I will return," it rasped, choked by its pain. "And I will destroy you."

Aramus gazed into the demonic eyes, saw the unending hate, and suddenly beheld a scene far from the Abyss. Even as Aramus stood before the Beast, he gazed upon a moonlit glade where an old hare lay dying in the snow, faithful and loving to the end... and he saw Windgate, standing brokenly over the body of his fallen friend ... Kaleel mourning the loss of his father ... Gianavel wounded beneath Corbis. And not even Aramus knew what deep purpose decided his reply, but his words fell like ice from white fangs.

"No," he said. "This is the end."

Aramus moved forward, slowly at first, and Baalkor saw the lethal light of those silver eyes. The dark wolf snarled hideously, and Aramus moved again, faster, his movements blending suddenly into a blinding, silver blur that swept in with supernatural speed.

Baalkor saw the silver shape sweep in and sweep out again, and felt with the movement a numbness descend instantly upon him. He staggered, the evil face a mask of shock and disbelief, and felt his strength spilling onto the cavern floor.

A moment more he stood, staring at the silver wolf, who watched, breathing hard, only a step away. Then suddenly, as if summoned by a force beyond his will, the dark wolf stumbled, collapsing.

Baalkor looked up and saw Aramus standing over him, the silver eyes somehow saddened, shocked at the horror of the task. Then he felt the sentence of death, and in the final, terrifying moment beheld an unearthly judgment crowning that silver brow, before darkness claimed him.

Even as the dark head fell, Aramus turned away and leaped into the cavern to meet Kaleel rising from the floor. The bear staggered up slowly, dazed and disoriented from a terrible wound. No words were passed as the friends met, and none were necessary as they turned and quickly ascended the granite to enter the battle on the throne.

Unable to wait for Kaleel, Aramus ran forward to see Gianavel pinned against a flat wall, inescapably trapped by Corbis's wide reach. Elders swirled about the Beast, striking and roaring, but Corbis was returning their wrath and more while sweeping wide, killing blows that Gianavel evaded by the narrowest edge.

Roaring, Aramus bounded up the throne and launched himself high with a powerful leap. Corbis turned, struck by the challenge, as Aramus completed a silver arc through the shadowy air and descended, fangs announcing his intent, into the face of the Beast.

* * *