Death of a Darklord

NINE

Something crashed through the brush. Elaine tried to face the sound but couldn't move. She struggled just to breathe. If it was some great beastie come to eat her, she could do nothing to save herself. The thought made her angry. She took another painful breath and fought to sit, leaning against the tree that had nearly broken her back.

Elaine stood knee-deep in snow, sword out, shield gripped close to his side. Two wolves circled him. He struggled in the deep snow to keep them both in sight, but they seemed to know that and turned opposite each other. Neither Elaine nor the beasts had seen Elaine.

She sat on the cold ground and watched her brother. What could she do to help him? She was no fighter. She did not even have the fighting knife that the woman with gold eyes had had in her vision. She had a small dagger for cutting food, stripping wood for a fire, but not fighting.

One wolf leapt at Elaine. He slashed it, and it yelped, falling back; fresh blood seeped onto the snow. The other wolf lunged onto Elaine's back before he could turn, bringing him down under its weight. Fanged jaws opened wide to crush his skull.

Elaine screamed, "Nooo!"

The wolf whirled, still pinning Blaine with its weight but not biting. It turned amber eyes to her.

She struggled to her feet. The wounded wolf stalked toward her, stiff-legged. The other wolf turned back to Blaine, lips drawing back from fangs. Blaine managed to get one shoulder up. The wolf bit down. Blaine screamed.

Elaine looked around for something, anything, to use as a weapon. She pulled a tree limb from the snow. The wounded wolf crouched, haunches tense, ready to spring. There was another scream from Blaine, but Elaine had no time to spare for him. The wounded wolf hurtled toward her. She held the tree limb out before her like a sword.

The wolf hit the branch, and though Elaine managed to hold on to it, the weight shoved her back into the snow, the snarling wolf atop her. The wolf was caught on the stick like a tent on a pole. It struggled, claws flaying, scratching at her face and arms. Elaine screamed.

A sword slashed out and down. The wolf's head tumbled away, and blood sprayed out into the snow, over Elaine's face. She threw an arm up to protect her face. The tree limb collapsed; the wolf dropped atop her. Blood pumped out on her, down her neck, soaking into her clothing.

She screamed. Blood poured into her mouth and eyes. The wolf slid to one side. Hands lifted her to a sitting position. She struggled, screaming, throwing her head from side to side, scraping at her face.

"Elaine, Elaine." Elaine's voice.

She blinked up at him. Her eyelashes were sticky with blood. He cradled her against his cloak. Blood smeared along the white fur.

"I thought the horse might have killed you," Tereza said. She stood over them, cleaning her blade on a bit of cloth. "I didn't know you'd be fighting wolves."

Elaine swallowed, tried to think of something to say and coming up with nothing. Blaine was alive. She was alive. The wolf was dead. There was nothing to say, except, "Where're Konrad and Thordin?"

"Here I am." Thordin stepped out of the trees. He held a rawhide string in one hand, a necklace of fresh wolf ears threaded on it. They made a trail of crimson drops on the snow like bread crumbs.

"Where's Konrad?" Jonathan asked.

"The beast that lead the lesser wolves took off through the trees almost as soon as we arrived." He frowned. "I've never seen a huge creature like that turn tail without a fight. Konrad chased it with me, yelling for him to come back. But our first task was to protect the travelers, not go glory chasing."

Elaine's stomach clenched tight and cold. "Konrad is out there alone with that beast. We must help him."

"Now, child, either Konrad is fine and will come dragging his tail home, or. " Thordin shrugged.

"Or what?" she asked, but she knew. Thordin's matter-of-factness was too callous for words. "You have to help him."

"Oh, aye, child, but first I heard you screaming. Konrad's better at taking care of himself than you are. And this brother of yours." He nudged Blaine with his foot, smiling.

How could they all be smiling when Konrad might be dying or dead? Elaine knew her visions would show her Elaine's safety, or lack thereof, but she wasn't sure of Konrad's. He could die without her knowing. The thought made her throat ache with unshed tears.

"He's all right, Elaine." Blaine helped her to her feet. He winced as he took her weight. She pushed back his heavy cloak. His left shoulder bore tooth marks. Blood trickled down his arm.

"Does it hurt?"

He gave a crooked smile. "It would have to be the same arm the tree tore."

"Can you move it, boy?" Thordin asked. He proceeded to manipulate Blaine's arm, making sure it had a full range of motion. The arm did, but Blaine was tight-lipped and sweating when it was done.

"He's hurt; can't you see that?" Elaine said.

"Yes, but he's not too hurt to fight."

A horse pushed through the underbrush. Konrad was on it. He seemed uninjured. His eyes widened. He leapt off the horse and ran to Elaine. "Sit down, for gods' sake. You're wounded." He pushed her back into the bloody snow, medicine pack already open. His strong, sure fingers searched her face, neck. Fingertips kneading her scalp searching for the cut. She'd never felt his hands on her body so strongly. She didn't know whether to say something, or not.

It was Blaine who said, "It's not her blood."

Konrad didn't even look up. His healer's hands still searched for the wound he was sure was there.

Blaine touched his shoulder. "She's not hurt." Then it was Blaine's turn to frown at her. "You aren't hurt?"

Elaine looked at Konrad's serious face, so close, but finally said, "I don't think so."

Konrad blinked as if just now paying attention. "You aren't hurt?" He sounded like he didn't believe it.

Elaine wished she were hurt. Some small wound that would bleed a great deal and look more serious than it was. She started to say no, then realized she was. There were lines of dull, burning ache on her cheek, arms, ribs. She raised a hand to her cheek, rubbing at the wolf's Wood. She gave a soft hiss.

Konrad turned her head to one side. "Scratches." He glanced down at the headless wolf. "This?"

"Yes."

His fingers held her chin firmly, but not hard enough to hurt. He poured water on a rag and rubbed the wound, trying to clean it. The rag's cold water was still warmer than the surrounding air. It stung.

"What happened to the beastie you were chasing?" Thordin asked.

"I lost it in the trees." He never took his eyes from Elaine, from his work. His concentration was pure; fighting, healing, whatever, he was totally absorbed in it, as he had been in his love for his wife, as he was consumed in grieving for her.

Elaine realized with an almost physical jolt that the very trait she loved most about Konrad was the one that made him oblivious to her. His grief would live forever, as his love would have.

She stared into his green eyes, and he did not truly see her. He might never truly see her. That one thought hurt more than any wound.

Konrad lifted her arm. The claws had scratched through the cloth here and there. It was hard to tell if the wounds bled, for she was covered in wolf blood.

"Were you lying under the thing when it was beheaded?" he asked.

"Yes."

He made an exasperated sound low in his throat. "Who killed the wolf?" He looked up for the first time. "Blaine?"

"It wasn't me. I was too busy killing my wolf. In fact, after you see to Elaine, I've got a bite in my shoulder."

"Is anyone else hurt?" He bent back to Elaine. He'd unlaced her sleeve and was pushing the cloth back to reveal the white undersleeve. He traced the scratches. The cloth had protected her arms for the most part-no deep wounds.

"I'm living a charmed life of late," Thordin said. "Two encounters with evil and not a scratch."

"I slew the wolf," Tereza said.

Konrad rubbed salve into all the scratches he could find. "Why did you have to behead the blasted thing on top of her?"

"It was about to kill her," Tereza said. Her voice was warm with the first stirrings of anger. "If you hadn't gone off chasing boggles, you might have been here to help."

Konrad's shoulders hunched as if she'd struck him. Elaine stared at him. What was happening? What was he thinking to make that one remark hurt so much? His hands were smoothing salve on her cheek, touching her, the thought was enough. His mind opened to her like a door swinging wide.

He'd chased the great beast as though it had slain his wife, though Elaine didn't understand why. Beatrice hadn't been killed by wolves of any kind. He felt guilty for leaving them all, for failing them, as he'd failed his wife. Why failed?

His green eyes looked at her at last. They searched her face, seeing her, truly seeing her, as she had always wanted him to. But it was pity, not love. His thoughts filled his eyes like water and spilled into Elaine. She'd swallowed the wolf's blood. It was no natural wolf, and one way to become a werewolf was to drink the blood of one.

Elaine stared at him, mouth slowly opening in horror. Her eyes widened. "No, it wasn't."

The sudden tenderness on Konrad's face was too much. His pity was overwhelming. Why couldn't it have been love? The salty tears stung the cuts on her face.

"What's wrong?" Elaine asked.

"Did you swallow the blood, Elaine?" Jonathan asked.

She stared up at him with panicked eyes. "Yes." Her voice sounded strangled.

"No," Tereza said. "It was just a wolf."

"That size, in the company of a man-wolf," Jonathan said. He shook his head.

"No," she said again, voice strong and sure. "It was just a dire wolf, unnatural perhaps, but not a werewolf."

"How do you know that, Wife? How?"

Tereza shook her head stubbornly. "It doesn't have to be a werewolf."

"But what if it is?" Konrad said.

They all looked at Elaine. Blaine fell to his knees beside her, tears running down his cheeks, freezing in tiny silver beads on his face.

"But Blaine was bitten. Is he in danger, too?"

"I have a salve for scratches and bites if I can get to them before the poison has time to spread, but… if you swallow the blood, the salve cannot help."

"Surely a potion," Tereza said.

Konrad shook his head. "Most who drink the blood want to be a werewolf. There is no potion to save those who don't want to be saved."

"There is a way to tell if wolves are natural or not." Gersalius sat on his horse at the edge of the clearing. He had been so quiet Elaine had forgotten about him.

"What of the travelers?" Jonathan said, "Will they be safe while we linger here?"

"Safe enough," the wizard said.

"Jonathan, if there is a chance to know whether Elaine is contaminated, we must take it."

Jonathan turned to his wife. "Magic to save us from magic."

Tereza made a small pushing motion with her hands. "Enough of this argument, Jonathan. Do what you must, wizard."

Jonathan opened his mouth as if he would argue, but didn't. "I will go see to the travelers." With that, he took his horse's reins and walked back the way Thordin and Konrad had come.

With a sinking heart Elaine watched him go. Did he hate magic more than he loved her? She watched him disappear through the trees and feared it was so.

Gersalius pulled a small mirror from his pocket. He sprinkled a pale powder over the glass and spoke a few soft words. The sound raised the hairs on her body, like an army of marching ants. The air was too heavy to breathe, as if a thunderstorm hung in the air. Elaine looked at Konrad, but he was looking at the wizard. No one else seemed to feel anything out of the ordinary. There was an almost audible pop. Then Gersalius put his mirror away and said, "They are just wolves."

"Even I need more proof than that," Tereza said. "You spill some salt over a mirror, mutter some nonsense, and expect us to believe it's magic?"

"Look at your friend's trophies," the wizard said.

Thordin looked down at his necklace of ears. He raised it slowly so all could see. Two of the ears were human.

Gersalius smiled. "It's a good spell. Not very flashy, but it gets the job done."

Tereza could only nod. Elaine could only stare at the two very human ears.