Stealer of Flesh

THE WOLVES OF WAR

The white eye of the watching moon glared down on the burning village. Corpses sprawled everywhere. Most of the dead looked as if they had fled in panic and been overtaken by large beasts. Their flesh was ripped and their bones had been broken and gnawed for marrow. When he’d heard the sounds of violence and cries of pain Kormak had almost ridden on. After all, the civil strife tearing apart the Kingdom of Valkyria was not his fight, but the eerie howling told him there was work for him here.

Another strange echoing cry rang out through the cold night air. It sounded like the baying of a wolf but there was also something almost human in that call. It was answered from a different part of the village. Kormak reached for his sword but he did not draw it. He would only do that if he intended to kill.

His horse snorted skittishly although it had been trained to endure far worse than this. He got down from its back to inspect the dead.

He had been hoping to find a bed for the night in the local inn. The long chase after the Ghul Razhak through these mountains had left him badly in need of rest. Instead of sleep, he had found only horror and death. It must have come recently, for the bodies were still warm and the blood around some of them had not even started to congeal.

Something huge loped towards him out of the darkness. It had the shape of a man but it was bigger, perhaps half again as tall and perhaps three times as heavy. Greyish fur covered its body. Its head resembled a combination of a man and a wolf. Around its throat was a chain of nocturnium, one of the ancient night-metal alloys, forged into strange and terrible Elder Signs.

The monster opened its mouth and howled. Its long pink tongue lolled from its open maw. Its massive yellowish fangs glittered in the moonlight. Spittle drooled from its jaws and dripped onto the ground.

Hunger burned in its eyes as it moved ever closer. It came on with a terrible confidence, as if certain that it could not possibly be opposed by the man in front of it. It sprang, its leap carrying it far further than any human could jump. It stretched out its arms, long claws glittering in the moonlight, bright with the promise of death.

Kormak stepped to one side. His dwarf-forged blade leapt from its sheath, slashed outwards and parted the creature’s head from its shoulders. Its skin sizzled where the sword edge bit. Even as he watched, the wolf-man changed back into a human being. Its corpse lay there in a pool of pink pus.

Another howl rang out, as if in answer to the dying wolf-man’s cry, followed by a cry of pain.

Kormak moved through the streets of the burning village towards the sounds of screaming. He had heard that things were bad in the Mountains of Darkness and it seemed that he had not been misinformed. He passed a temple, a small shrine really, on fire in the middle of the village. The symbol of the Holy Sun was inscribed on the burning spire. He knew that these people were of the same faith that he himself followed.

He emerged into the middle of the temple square where another wolf-man confronted a villager armed only with a scythe. He was standing over the recumbent form of another human, trying to protect him. The wolf-man advanced with a lazy confidence that seemed entirely justified. The man slashed at it and his blade pierced the creature’s flesh. The skin knitted behind the cut, there was no blood, and it was as if the creature had never taken a wound. Some magic protected it from the effects of normal weapons. Kormak began to understand how just two of these monsters had been able to slaughter the entire village.

Kormak shouted, trying to get the monster’s attention. The peasant looked at him and in the moment when he was distracted, the wolf-man reached out and lazily tore his head off. It stood there, clutching the severed head, blood dripping over its talons. Its mouth lolled open and it seemed almost to be laughing. Kormak walked towards it, blade held at the ready. In the moonlight, the runes on the sword glowed slightly, telling Kormak of the presence of magic, even though he did not need told that at the moment.

The wolf-man seemed confused. Kormak guessed that it was not used to having its victims advance upon it, showing no fear. He also guessed that the creature sensed the power within his dwarf-forged weapon and was alarmed by it. Perhaps it smelled the blood of its companion on him.

Before Kormak could do anything, the wolf-man turned and fled, bounding away faster than a horse could run. It sprang over the wall of the village and raced off into the night. Kormak could hear its howling receding into the distance and knew that he could not overtake it.

He looked around him one more time and could see nothing but dead bodies and burning buildings. There was no sign of any further monsters so he strode over to where the headless villager lay. Beside him was a wounded man in the robes of a priest, a great gash torn in his flesh. Looking at his wound, Kormak knew the man did not have long to live. “What happened here?” he asked.

The priest looked up at him. “Massimo’s Wolves came. They killed everyone.”

“Massimo?” Kormak asked.

“Jaro’s henchman. The wizard. Moondog rebels, the pair of them. Kill them, Champion of the Sun. Kill them all.” He coughed blood and tried to make the sign of the Sun over his ripped chest. His eyes went wide and cold and Kormak realised that the last thing he had seen was the moon, an ill omen for a man of his faith.

Kormak picked his way through the ruins of the village, looking for survivors. There were none. The wolf-men had been thorough about their work. On his way back, he checked the body of the wolf-man he had killed. It still lay there, in a puddle of what looked like liquified flesh. The night-metal necklace glittered on its throat. Looking closely Kormak could see that it seemed to have fused into the flesh.

Kormak prised it free. It tingled in his hand as he touched it. He could feel the foulness in it, the taint of Shadow. It shattered when he struck it with his blade.

A wisp of ectoplasm drifted free and he ran his blade through it too, dissolving it and sending the bound spirit to its final death. Whoever this Massimo was, Kormak thought, he knew powerful dark magic.

He did not want to take his rest surrounded by the dead, and perhaps the wolf-man would return with companions.

In the distance Kormak could see smoke rising. There had been a lot of it since he had started riding through the Mountains of Darkness. Everywhere he looked there was burning and the signs of strife. It felt wrong. It was late autumn, not the time for local lordlings to be making war. He had seen more burned-out villages with the charred bodies of massacre victims strewn through them. He had seen farms and cottages burned to the ground. He had seen the flocks of sheep slain and left to rot.

He had been born in the mountains of Aquilea, a rough land, where clan feuds burned hot and long but he had never seen anything like this. Flocks were for rustling, not to kill and leave lying. This was more like the work of mad beasts than men. It was as if madness had struck right across the mountains.

He had seen their tracks, those of large, armed bands, leading away from the place where the massacres happened. Mingled with those of horses and men had been what looked like those of very large dogs. He guessed the wolf-men rode with the warriors.

Ahead of him he saw a body on the road. There was something about this that was at once repulsive and disturbing.

He reined his horse to halt and dismounted to inspect the corpse. He noticed the smell from many strides away, a peculiar mixture of rotting meat and something else, something suggestive of things long dead. He had a suspicion he knew what he would find even before he reached the body and he was not disappointed.

He knew the man, or he had known in him life. It was the robber-knight Wesley. His features seemed to have aged and at the same time putrefied. His body and his life had been consumed by the Ghul who had possessed him. It feasted on the life energy of its victims even as it took possession of their bodies.

The process was happening faster than it ought to according to the old records. Perhaps the Ghul had been weakened by millennia of imprisonment. Or perhaps some of Solareon’s spells binding it were still in place. In any case, this might perhaps represent a strange stroke of luck. If the Ghul needed to shift bodies constantly it would be easier to identify as the bodies decomposed and it would find it more difficult to locate new victims who would be wary of its appearance.

It seemed like it had already found a new victim, one who had not been wary enough, or perhaps one who had simply been overpowered by the knight. It occurred to Kormak that he had no idea what the new victim looked like. There did not seem to be any witnesses. He studied the ground for clues and found a staff and a bundle lying nearby, the sort that a tinker or an itinerant labourer might have carried. Had these belonged to Razhak’s last victim or was there no connection? In the absence of any further indicators, he would need to presume that there was a connection.

He looked around for tracks and found none. He had encountered no one on the road, so the Ghul had not doubled back. It was probably safe to assume that it was still fleeing before him, but for how long would that continue? If it reached a town it would have many more potential victims and many more ways to cover its tracks. Of course, there might be mages there who could help hunt it down. Kormak knew if the hunt took much longer he would need to seek the aid of a wizard himself. He could not simply rely on luck.

Part of him wondered why he was doing this at all. He could simply turn back and leave the Ghul to go on its way. No one would know but him. He could just turn his horse around and head west, back to Taurea and the home of his order. There was nothing to stop him. There were even those who would argue that it was his duty to do so, but he could not bring himself to believe that. The monster was free at least in part because he had failed. Lord Tomas and Wesley had taken his sword and his gear and used it in the ritual that had set Razhak free. It would not have happened if he had not been present and too weak to stop them.

Even as he pondered this he thought he heard movement in the undergrowth nearby. His hand went to the hilt of his sword. If Razhak was present he would need to defend himself. He walked closer to where the sound was coming from and he thought he heard sobbing. He kept one hand on the sword hilt and he pulled the bushes apart. Something looked up at him, large eyes staring fearfully out of a dirt-smudged face. It took Kormak a moment to realise it was a teenage girl.

She looked at Kormak. He inspected her for signs of possession.

“You just going to stare at me?” she asked. Kormak tilted his head to one side. She moved her hand. There was a knife in it. “If you come any closer I will stick you.”

She glared. He studied the pupils of her eyes. They were wide but they looked normal. There was no glaze and she was not looking at him fixedly. Her mannerisms were normal although that might not mean anything. A Ghul like Razhak had centuries to learn how to counterfeit those.

“What’s your name?” Kormak asked. He watched, listening closely for the slightest hesitation.

“Who’s asking?”

“My name is Kormak. I am a Guardian of the Order of the Dawn.”

“Yes and I am Our Lady of the Moon.”

“I would not say that too loudly where the Old Ones might hear,” Kormak said.

“It’s daylight. They do not come out in the sunlight.” She sounded normal but he had not really heard enough to judge. He needed to keep her talking. He needed to collect more information. Sometimes the only way to tell if someone was possessed was to look for small cues in their manner. He doubted that anyone who Razhak was within would rant and rave like a lunatic. The Ghul did not seem to be that sort of demon.

“Most of them can’t. Some can cloak themselves with spells. Others can take possession of human or animal forms. Sometimes they have other gifts. They can hear or see things a long way off. Particularly concerning things that are of interest to them.”

“You sound like a Guardian.”

“How would you know? Have you ever met one?”

“You sound like what they are supposed to sound like.”

“What is your name?”

“Are you on a quest?”

“I am hunting a monster. I am trying to decide whether you are what I am looking for.”

She looked insulted and then a little frightened and she brought the knife between them. She held it edge on, more as a barrier than as if she knew how to use it. She would have had the point towards him if she did.

“And if you think I am the one you are looking for, you will kill me, won’t you?”

He nodded.

“You’ll try,” she said.

“No. I will kill you,” he said. “It is what I do. That tiny knife won’t stop me. You can’t even hold it properly.”

His voice was flat and calm and that just made it more frightening. She flinched away from him.

“You really would, wouldn’t you?”

“I really would.”

“And you’re the sort of cold bastard who would tell me that as well.”

“I am trying to get a sense of who you are and whether you are possessed.”

“Like by a demon?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not an accident you are on this road. You are looking for something that looked like a rotting corpse walking.”

“I am.”

“It looks like the nastiest beggar you ever saw, smelled worse, smelled so bad you knew it could not be anything good.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Why do you think I am hiding here?”

“I have no idea. I am trying to find out.”

“So you can decide whether or not to kill me.” He did not say anything, just watched her. He was ready for anything or he thought he was. He was not prepared when she laughed and said, “You’re as bad as the Wolves.”

“Who are they?”

“You’ve just ridden into these parts, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“They’re who has been burning and raping and looting and killing. They’re the worst of the worst, the remnants of Jaro’s army and something even nastier.”

“Who is Jaro?”

“Jaro was the Pretender. He raised his banner here in the mountains, declared himself king. A load of the local lads thought he’d make a good one so they signed on with him.”

“The real king of Valkyria decided different.”

“Who is to say who is the real king?”

“The one with the victorious army.”

“You’re not as dumb as you look, are you? Yeah-King Sturmbrand scattered Jaro’s rebels at Hell Ford. They say he struck down the Pretender with his blade Lightning but the body was never found. Massimo, Jaro’s pet wizard, retreated into the mountains to cook up some new devilry. The Wolves appeared soon after that.”

“So you’ve got what’s left of a rebel army riding around and plundering.”

“That’s how it started. Have you decided whether you are going to kill me or not?”

“Not yet. Keep talking.”

“You could be one of them, you know. You’ve got the eyes.”

“Have I?”

“Flat and cold and with a real distance in them. You’ve killed a lot of people, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t even have to think about it or look embarrassed or ashamed when you say it?”

“Should I?”

“You obviously don’t think so. You’re proud of it, aren’t you?”

“No. It’s my calling. You were telling me about the Wolves.”

“They used to be called that because of the wolf’s head on Jaro’s banner. But since they started following his lieutenant, Massimo, the sorcerer, some of them have become real wolves. You heard of Massimo?”

“No.”

“He’s a bad one, has made pacts with the Shadow, so they say, and if you really are a Guardian you should take a look at him.”

“I might.”

“You would never get within a hundred feet of him. The Wolves would tear you apart.”

“His pets are nasty?”

She laughed bitterly. “They’re not pets. They are men. Or at least they once were men. He did something to them during the rebellion, changed them in some way. Now they are something different. At night, they can change into monsters. You know, I really am starting to believe you are a Guardian. A normal man would be back on his horse and riding for his life about now. You just stand there as if you’ve heard this sort of thing all before.”

“I have.”

“So are you going to do anything about it? Somebody ought to make Massimo and his bastard monsters pay for what they are doing.”

“It sounds like it will take more than one lone Guardian to do that.”

“I thought you lot were supposed to be heroes, sneer in the face of danger, defy demons, that sort of thing.”

“I am sorry to disappoint. I already have one monster I am tracking. Are you going to tell me what you know about it?”

“So you are convinced that I am not it?”

“Maybe.”

“Cagey bastard, aren’t you?”

“It’s how I have lived to my advanced age.”

“It’s a skill I wish you would teach me.”

“What is your name, girl?”

“Petra.”

“What are you doing on this road?”

“My brother and I were fleeing, trying to get away.”

“From where?”

“Oakbridge. It was our village back along the road. The Wolves burned it.”

“You fled?”

“We fled. We were the only ones left alive. Luck really. Our house was on the edge of the village furthest from where they broke in. Tam smelled the burning, woke me. We crept out and hid, dived into the millpond. That way the Wolves could not smell us.”

“Clever.”

“Tam was a good hunter. He knew about such things. He taught me what he could after our parents died.”

“Where is he now?”

“You already know, don’t you?”

“The demon took him, or it took his body.”

“It was horrible. I could hear him screaming. He told me to run then he told me to come back. The voice did not sound like him at all.”

“It wasn’t. It was the thing that killed him.”

“He’s dead then.”

“His body is walking the world. His soul is not in it though.”

“Then I can’t even give him a proper burning.”

“You follow the Solar rites here?”

“Our village did. It’s all mixed up here though in the mountains. Some are moondogs. There’s old hatred here. Massimo is a moondog, so are his Wolves. You’d better hope they don’t see you. You’re sworn to the Sun, aren’t you?”

“I was. A long time ago.”

“You going to kill me or not?” Kormak looked at her. She was just a girl, with eyes that looked as if they were about to brim with tears, who had been hungry for too long. At least as far as he could tell.

“How did Razhak catch you?”

“Razhak? Is that the sort of demon you are chasing?”

“It’s his name.”

If she was curious as to how he knew that, she gave no sign. “He rode up, on a big horse. I thought there was something odd about him. It was the smell. We started to run but he rode Tam down. He just passed me by.”

“I don’t think Razhak would want a woman’s body here. It would make him too vulnerable.”

“You make it sound very cunning.”

“A land torn by war. A woman on her own. Too much like a victim.”

“He might use it as a trap.”

“You do think like a hunter.”

“I can help you hunt this bastard demon,” she said. “It killed my brother.”

“I am not sure I want any help.”

“You going to do this all on your own?”

“I don’t want to hunt a demon and look after you at the same time.”

“You are the soul of chivalry, aren’t you? A real knight.”

“A real knight would beat you for showing such disrespect. They don’t like uppity peasant girls.”

“So I should be glad you’re not? And I am not a peasant. I am a freeholder.”

“You got any place to go, or were you and your brother just fleeing?”

“My father’s sister has a place down in Steelriver. She would take us in. Or she’ll take me in now.”

“How far is Steelriver?”

“It’s the main town about five leagues ahead. It’s mostly a Sunlander place and it’s too big for the Wolves to attack, yet. All the Sunlanders are heading that way. What? What did I say? You look as if you swallowed a lemon.”

Kormak thought about what she had said. He suddenly saw a pattern to all the burnings. “It’s a cattle drive,” he said. “They are burning you out and driving you all to one place.”

She looked at him. Her mouth opened as if she was about to contradict him but then it closed again. “You know, you might be right.”

“There’s been a lot of feuding between the Sunlanders and the moondogs hasn’t there?”

“Always has been since Kyril the Conqueror claimed these lands in the name of the Holy Sun. The moondogs don’t like that one little bit.”

Kormak nodded. He could tell the girl was talking about humans when she mentioned moondogs. Further west that particular name was reserved for the Old Ones themselves not those who worshipped them. Here the words had the sound of a most bitter insult.

“You think they are going to get everyone in one place and then burn it?”

“It’s an old trick in siege warfare. Force your enemy to open the gates to refugees from their own side. If they open the gates, it’s more mouths to feed. If they turn them away, it demoralises.”

“Lord Martin would not turn any one of the True Faith away. The city council might. They are a bunch of money grubbing bastards by all accounts.”

“You always use such language?”

“Who are you, my father?”

“Where is he?”

“Dead, like my mother. Red plague took them.”

Kormak could tell by the set of her mouth that she was not going to say anything more on that subject.

“You can walk with me to Steelriver. Razhak is most likely going that way anyway.”

And that would not be good, Kormak thought. There would be many new bodies there, and in a big town he could hide all too well.

“You not going to ask me to ride with you?”

“My horse does not need the extra weight and I don’t need anyone behind me who is so ready with a knife.”

They had been on the road for hours and Kormak was tired of fending off the girl’s endless questions. He just stared at their surroundings and let her chatter flow over him. She did not seem to care so long as he grunted occasionally as if he were listening.

It was getting dark. The mountains which mere hours before had been vast and clear, dappled with woods, bright with snow on the peaks, were becoming mere gigantic shadows that loomed menacingly all around. Clouds hid the face of Our Lady of the Moon. It did not look like they would make the town this evening so it was time to make camp.

Kormak swung his steed off the road when he found a convenient hollow. It was cold, with the chill of oncoming winter. He began to gather sticks for a fire. Petra began to help. He noticed that she had a leather strap in her hand now with a stone in it and he watched her warily. Many a warrior had been killed with a sling. It made him reluctant to remove his helmet. He had known some men who would have mocked him for that but he was still alive and they were long in their graves.

“You any good with that?” he asked.

She nodded and began to whirl the sling. He kept his eye on her, ready to throw himself to one side if she looked like she was bringing it to bear on him. The stone whizzed away and brought down a squirrel in a nearby tree. It was an excellent shot in the bad light.

“Impressive,” Kormak said.

“Dinner,” she said. She nodded at the sword. “You any good with that thing?”

“I don’t intend to bring down any squirrels with it.”

“It was not squirrels I was thinking of,” she said. She nodded towards the mountain slope. There was something moving amid the undergrowth there. It might have been a wolf or a bear. Kormak returned to getting the fire lit. It might prove useful in keeping beasts at bay as well as keeping them warm. Petra moved closer. She set the squirrel down and began to clean and skin it. She carefully placed the pelt aside. He guessed she might be able to sell it or the tail. Or maybe she wanted to use it herself.

“You don’t seem too worried,” she said. He could tell whatever was out there was on her mind.

“If we have to fight, we have to fight,” he said. “I am not worried. I have an expert slinger on my side.”

“It was a lucky shot,” she said. “And I can’t bring down a bear.”

“It seems to be heading away anyway.”

“It might come back.”

“Worry about it when it happens.”

“Can you really do that? Push everything out of your mind.”

“No,” said Kormak. “But I can try.”

She put the squirrel on the end of a twig and began to roast it over the fire. “You want some?” she asked.

“I have waybread.”

“You going to offer me some?”

“I thought your offer of roast squirrel was not entirely altruistic.” He offered her some of the waybread anyway and shook his head as she pushed the squirrel forward. She took the waybread.

“You speak like the preachers who used to come round the villages.”

“I was educated in a monastery.”

“Mount Aethelas?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not a Sunlander. Why did they take you in?”

“The Holy Sun accepts all those who accept him.”

“And you accepted him?”

“The Aquileans worshipped the Sun before the Solari came from over the World Ocean.”

“You did not answer my question.”

“That might give you a clue that I am not going to.”

“Keep your blade handy. The Wolves roam the night.”

“I think we’ll notice if a band of riders comes thundering out of the dark.”

“Sometimes the wolf-men hunt on their own.”

“You’re not frightened, are you?”

“Why should I be? I have a Guardian here to protect me.”

“Who is going to protect me?”

“You are not quite as reassuring as the stories say you should be.”

“Worry about the wolf-man when the wolf-man comes. Or leave it to me to worry about. Get some sleep.”

She seemed to already have taken him at his word. A sound of snoring emerged from the other side of the fire. Kormak made sure his blade was close at hand, wrapped himself in his cloak and stared at the sky. There was a moisture in the air, a dampness that reminded him of the mountains of his homeland. It made him feel almost nostalgic. He avoided looking at the fire. He did not want to ruin his night vision.

The whinnying of the horse woke Kormak. His steed was a warhorse, trained to remain calm in the face of battle, fire and monsters. It was nervous now though and that in turn made him nervous. He rose to his feet, reaching for his blade. The girl was already up with her knife out.

“Planning on slitting my throat in the dark, were you?” Kormak asked.

“Your horse woke me. There’s something out there. Maybe the bear has come back.”

“Maybe,” Kormak said. He sniffed the air. There was an odd scent to it, of fur and something else. It was not the rotten smell he would have associated with Razhak’s walking corpse.

Something big emerged from the shadows. Kormak turned to face it. He did not draw his sword despite feeling an almost overpowering urge to do so. The creature was bigger than he was and covered in fur but it was not a bear. It walked upright like a man and its body resembled that of a man save for being broader and more stooped. The arms were longer and the hands ended in claws. It had a wolf’s head although the brow was higher and the eyes wider, and there was an odd intelligence in them. Around its neck was a choker of night-metal like the other wolf-men had worn.

“It’s one of Massimo’s Wolves,” said Petra.

“I worked that out all by myself,” Kormak said, not taking his eyes from the creature.

“Are you going to kill it?”

“Not unless it attacks us,” said Kormak loud enough so the wolf-man could hear what he was saying. Looking at those huge pointed ears he suspected it would have been able to do that even if he whispered. It opened its muzzle and let its tongue loll out, almost as if it was laughing. Kormak took a slow step closer. He wanted it to understand he was not afraid of it either. It looked at him with those fierce, red, miserable eyes. Kormak could see its muscles tense, as if it were about to spring.

“I would not do that if I were you,” he said. “Not unless I wanted to die.”

That seemed to be all the trigger it took. The wolf-man sprang, an avalanche of fur and muscle and rage slammed into Kormak. Its weight knocked him over but already it was ceasing to struggle.

“I don’t believe it,” said Petra. “You drew your sword and put it through the wolf-man’s chest in a heartbeat.”

Kormak pushed the heavy corpse off him. “Yes,” he said sourly.

Kormak looked down at the wolf-man. It was already beginning to change. A pinkish-grey pus was leaking from its flesh as it lost mass and began to revert to something more human. In a few heartbeats a tall man clad in what looked like rags was lying there. He was still alive despite the fact that Kormak’s sword was embedded in his abdomen. Kormak had no intention of taking it out until he was certain the man was dead.

“Thank you,” said the man. It was not exactly what Kormak had expected.

He hunkered down beside the man. “Why?”

“You have freed me, freed my soul. The demon in me is gone. It could not stand your sword. It burned.”

“Massimo bound something into your body?”

The dying man nodded. “When Massimo brought Jaro back from the dead, he called for volunteers. He said Massimo would work magic, that would make us invincible, let us take back what was ours from the Sunlanders. He showed us what had been done to him, how the wolf spirit had been bound into him and made him mighty. I stepped forward.”

“Kill the moondog bastard,” said Petra. “He’s slaughtered hundreds.”

“I want to hear what he has to say.”

The man’s lips quirked in a sour smile. “She’s right. I did. Men, women, children. It was not what I expected. Not what I was told. He put a demon in me, Massimo did. At first I thought I could control it, use its power but over the months it grew stronger. It fed on the rage and hate and pain. In the end it controlled me. It made me want to kill everything within reach…”

“Typical moondog bastard, always giving excuses when they are caught, when it doesn’t matter. Tell the folks you killed you’re sorry!”

“I am not sorry I killed most of them,” the wolf-man said. “You came here and stole our land and you raised your false god. You persecuted those who followed the Old Ways and you were always so righteous about it. We showed you that Our Lady still has power.”

Petra had drawn her knife. Kormak gestured for her to stand back. He did not want this man’s throat cut, not yet anyway. “Massimo did this to you.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you come here? Why did you attack us? Did you just find our trail, catch our scent?”

“I was sent to find you. Many of the Wolves were. You are a champion of the Sun and you are pursuing Massimo’s new friend. There will be others after you now. I was just the first to catch your trail.”

“New friend?”

“Something strange. It rode up yesterday and chatted with Massimo for hours. It smelled of death and old magic. When he was finished, the sorcerer gave us our orders.”

Kormak looked up at the sky. The clouds had parted. The waning moon blinked mockingly through the gap. “Where can I find Massimo?”

“The Devil’s Peak,” said the wolf-man.

“That’s where his tower is,” said Petra. “No one goes there.”

“You can show me to this place?” he asked her. She looked at him for a long time, swallowed and nodded.

“I could but I won’t. I am not mad. No one comes back from Devil’s Peak.”

“Razhak is there. He killed your brother. You said you wanted to revenge. You said you wanted Massimo dead.”

“And you will kill him?”

“If I have to and I suspect I might.”

“You don’t lack confidence do you, big man?”

“I do what I have to, like everybody else. Massimo wants me dead. His Wolves want me dead. Razhak is with him. Under the circumstances, someone is going to die and it’s not going to be me.”

“If you go to the tower you will die, Guardian,” said the wolf-man. “What’s left of Jaro’s army is camped in the valley and the Wolves guard Massimo. Not even your blade can kill all of them.”

“There’s more than one way to skin a wolf,” Kormak said. “I don’t plan on hacking my way in.”

“I said you were not entirely stupid,” said Petra. Her voice sounded so shaky Kormak knew she was still considering helping him. “You really mean to kill Massimo?”

“If I can.”

“If you do there will be no more Wolves.”

“Not unless Massimo’s apprentices have been taught his secrets.”

“Massimo has no apprentices,” said the wolf-man. “He guards his secrets from all.”

“Why is he helping Razhak?”

“I think Razhak has promised Massimo the secret of immortality. Does he really have it?”

“Only the Old Ones know that,” said Kormak. “And he is not a true Old One.”

The wolf looked curious. “I am sorry I don’t have the time to find out what you mean.” Blood was leaking from the corners of his mouth and from his nostrils now. His breathing was a hoarse rattle. There was a bubbling sound from inside his chest.

“You should just leave the bastard to be eaten by scavengers,” Petra said as she placed another rough stone on top of the shallow grave. “There’s no need to build the monster a monument.”

“He died as a man and he repented,” Kormak said.

“And you believed him?”

“I’ve seen others repent their wickedness. There’s hope for us all.”

“You seem to really need to believe that.” She grunted as she lifted another heavy stone. Kormak looked at her and watched until she had lowered it into place.

“You always watch, don’t you? You looked at me as if you were expecting me to try and brain you with that rock.”

“I am not entirely certain you were not considering it.”

“If you are going to kill Massimo I want you to live. He’s the bastard who deserves to die. That wolf would have eaten me as it raped me if you had not killed it. I owe you for that.”

“I can’t kill Massimo if I can’t find him.”

“All right, I’ll show you the way to Devil’s Peak.”

“Thank you.” She laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“You. I offer to show you the way to certain death and you thank me. You’re a strange man, Guardian.”

“I live in a strange world.”

“We all do.”

“I’ve seen more of it than most folk.” Kormak placed another rock on the cairn and watched her as she took her turn. This time she met his gaze and just kept laughing.

They left the main road and started up a mountain track. This was clearly a path and a well-used one but it was not anything like a highway.

“Used to be drovers and rustlers used these tracks,” Petra said. “The high valleys are full of treacherous, thieving moondogs.”

“So you’ve said,” Kormak said. “Many times.”

“If I am boring you, just say so,” said the girl.

“I have said so.”

“I didn’t say I would pay any attention,” she said.

“You talk because you’re scared, I understand that.” She looked insulted and she shut up for a few minutes as he suspected she would. He was enjoying the silence when she said. “You think you’re very clever, don’t you?”

“Do I?”

“You think you can make me shut up by implying I am a coward if I talk.”

“I can see you are too cunning for me.”

“No. I am not. You were right. I am scared. I’ve been scared for a very long time. Since the war started. Since before the war started, when you could see it coming and the preachers were whipping everybody up to hate and the moondogs were spitting on our shadows and throats were being slit in the night. I was scared when the traders started bringing stories of battles and even when the King’s armies won. We were scared they would increase out taxes, and then we learned Jaro wasn’t dead and the Wolves were still out there. It was almost a relief when Oakbridge was attacked. It was like the worst had come and there was nothing more to worry about, but there was, wasn’t there? There always is. There always will be.”

She looked like a pale and frightened child now, like she always had been although he had been too annoyed and distracted to see it. He did not know what to say, so he kept quiet. He did not look at her. He heard soft noises that sounded like sobbing. They went on for a long time and then she blew her nose. That went on for a long time too.

Eventually she said, “How do you get to be a Guardian?”

“You thinking of becoming one?”

“I might if I could.”

There was no way she could become one. She was too old. She was not a Sunlander. He shook his head as he raised that objection. He was not a Sunlander either but then the order had special reasons for making him one of their own. “You must be presented at Mount Aethelas,” he said. “And you must swear an oath by the Holy Sun.”

“That’s all?”

“There’s the learning and the training, that takes some time.”

“They teach you how to use the sword?”

“Yes. And to read and to write.”

“That sounds boring.”

“How else will you be able to read your instructions from the Grand Master or find out what you need to know about the Old Ones in the lorebooks.”

“I thought you memorised all that, the way bards learn their chants.”

“You memorise a lot but you can’t learn everything. There’s always something more to find out.”

“All right, I’ll give you that it’s useful but it’s still dull.”

“I thought so when they first started teaching me but I soon got interested.”

“You have a priestly look about you so I am not surprised.”

“Most people find me menacing.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”

“In my experience it’s true.”

“I thought that when I first saw you. After I’ve talked to you, I am not sure. You do not seem like a mad-dog killer to me. If you had passed through our village dressed like a normal man I would never have guessed what you were.”

“You’re not exactly an expert on the subject.”

“You’re the one who asked for my help.”

“I have been reduced to such desperate straits. It is sad.”

“You killed that wolf-man back there, and you did not even look as if you were trying.”

“People who are good at things make them look easy, even if they are difficult.”

“Were you scared?”

“I did not have time to find out.”

“What?”

“It was all over so quickly.”

“Still, you must have worked out what to do; you must have thought about it.”

“No. It happened too fast for that. That’s why you train, so your body knows what to do automatically. You stop to think when you are fighting something like a wolf-man and you are dead.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She continued to look at him as if interested in learning some secrets he knew. Kormak wanted to tell her that there were no secrets, only hard work and luck and ruthless determination. He was not sure what good it would have done though so he kept quiet.

It was cold in the mountains but still warmer than Kormak would have expected for the time of year. Aquilea was a lot further coldward though so that might account for it. They said heat leeched away over the snowy edge of the world, the closer you got to it. It was certainly true it became warmer the further south you got.

The trees still had some of their leaves here and a riot of coloured flowers was still in bloom on thorny bushes. Their scents fought for attention in his nostrils. High overhead an eagle soared on the wind. Kormak was very aware of its presence and of the massive bulk of the mountains looming over him. He felt like an insect crawling over their sides and that got him to thinking.

“You are frowning. Straining to think, are you?” Petra said. He looked at her and smiled. They had developed the odd companionship of the road, the intimacy of strangers who would most likely never see each other again after the next few days. He had felt this way many times before. He could be open in such circumstances in a way he could not be with the closest brethren of his order.

“I was thinking about whether any of this is worth it.”

“You picked a bad time to have doubts.”

“I’ve always had them. Our lives are so short. We will pass in an eyeblink of the gods. The mountains will still be here. They’ve seen a hundred generations come and go. They’ll see a hundred more.”

She looked a little confused. “I have sometimes thought something similar myself.”

“Razhak has been here for millennia. The Old Ones have been here even longer. I have set myself to hunt things as old as mountains and I do so to stop them preying on people who will die anyway, in heartbeats as those demons measure time.”

“Why do it then? No one is forcing you to. You could just turn your horse around and ride away.”

“You’re not asking me anything I haven’t asked myself.”

“You ever give yourself any answers?”

“I swore an oath. I keep it.”

“That’s no answer at all.”

“It is for me.”

“It’s not the whole truth though, is it?” It was a surprisingly sharp observation for one so young.

“The truth is that I love doing this. I love the hunt. I love the excitement of the battle. It’s when I feel most alive.”

“You could soon get very dead.”

“And that’s the point. Sometimes I think that is an unworthy reason to do what I do but it keeps me at the task.”

“Maybe for you. I plan on living as long as I can and dying peacefully in my sleep surrounded by my grandchildren.”

“I am surprised you have thought that far ahead.”

“I’ve had some occasion to brood on these things recently. Tell me, do you hate him? Razhak, I mean? Or any of the Old Ones.”

“I don’t know Razhak. I know what he has done and what he will do if he is not stopped and that is enough for me.”

“What about the Old Ones?”

“One in particular but it’s an old hate and I try not to let it bother me.”

“Why you hate the one you do?” Kormak considered his answer, wondering whether he should give one, and then decided that under the circumstances it did not matter at all.

“Because I am afraid of him and because he killed my family when I was a boy. He killed everyone I knew.”

“I can understand why you feel that way then. You see that all the time up here. With the feuds. One killing leads to another. The moondogs kill us. We kill them. I was kind of hoping you would say there is no one you hate or fear.”

“The two things go together along with a lot of other ugly emotions.”

“You do sound like a priest sometimes, you know.”

“I know.”

“How are you going to kill Massimo?”

“However I can.”

“That does not sound like a plan.”

“How can I have a plan when I have no idea what I will encounter? I will sneak into the tower one way or another. I will find Massimo and Razhak then I will see what happens.”

“You have a lot of confidence in your own ability, don’t you?” She sounded envious.

“I’ve done this sort of thing before.”

“And that’s the secret, isn’t it? To confidence, I mean. How do you do it the first time though?”

“You fumble your way through and you do your best to appear to know what you are doing.”

“Is that what you did?”

“For the most part. I was also trained to do this. It helps. A lot.”

“An order of monks who are trained to kill. It sounds more exciting than praying for the souls of the dead.”

“I won’t argue about that.”

“But you could?”

He shrugged. Somewhere in the distance a howl rang out. It was eerily loud. It sounded like a wolf but it was not. There was something oddly human about its tones. Petra had frozen on the spot. Her face was pale and devoid of colour. Her knife was in her hands but she looked as if she wanted to dive into the nearest bush.

“It seems like Massimo’s pets are getting ready to hunt,” she said. Her voice sounded shaky, as if she was having some difficulty forcing the words out. She swallowed and waited for him to say something. He just listened.

“They are still a long way off. The sound carries a fair distance in these valleys.”

“They are going to be looking for us soon.”

“They are going to be looking for me. You can still run.” She looked embarrassed.

“I don’t want to be on my own in these mountains with the Wolves running free.”

“We’re heading towards an army.”

“I can be as sneaky as you. I have hunted these hills since I was a little girl. And I want to be there when you kill Razhak. I want to see him pay for what he did to Tam.”

“I am not sure that is a good idea.”

“You think I am not up for it?”

“I’ve seen people who have had to deal with possessed relatives before. It’s not pleasant. They sometimes forget what has happened and demons can be very persuasive.”

“It won’t happen to me.”

“I wish I was as certain of anything, as you are of everything.”

“You are getting old, Guardian.”

“I know it.” They moved on.

Below them the valley was visible in the early evening gloom. Smoke rose from campfires around which sat a number of men. A tower loomed on the opposite ridge overlooking the other side of the valley. A silvery dome topped the roof. It has the ancient look of most lunar fortifications in the area. The moondogs had been in this land a long time before the Sun worshippers came. It had been theirs once, just as the dying wolf-man had claimed.

The tower’s age in no way detracted from its aura of strength. The position was very defensible, the only approach up the line of the ridge, a narrow road along which not many troops could advance at a time. Anyone coming up the road would be visible to defenders from a long way off. Anyone standing on the battlements would have a clear view of the surrounding land.

Kormak was glad that Petra had the native wit not to stand. He had left his horse back down the path a ways, and crawled forward to take a look. He did not want to be silhouetted against the brow of the ridge if anyone glanced in their direction.

“There are several hundred men down there, and most likely Wolves in the tower. They are not all out hunting us,” Petra said. “Massimo must want to keep a guard close to him.”

“Maybe he does not trust Razhak,” Kormak said. “I can’t say I would blame him.”

“You think he took possession of one of the Wolves?”

“It would not do him much good.”

“How so?”

“The wolf-man is already possessed. It has a spirit of Shadow bound within its form. It would fight possession by Razhak and even if he snatched the body, he would have none of its powers. They would go with the Shadow Spirit.”

“He might have powers of his own.”

“He most certainly does. He is a life drinker.”

“And that does not scare you?”

“My amulets will protect me.”

“I wish I had one.”

“I need all the ones I have.”

“I wasn’t asking. I was just saying.” She was very touchy and, of course, she had been asking. As they watched the gate of the tower opened and a pack of monstrous shapes emerged howling. They raced down the path and joined a group of riders. All of them departed from the valley by the entrance on the opposite side.

“It looks like the Wolves of War ride tonight,” Petra said. “Another village will burn somewhere.”

“At least they are not coming this way,” Kormak said. “And they won’t be in the tower when we come calling.”

“How are you going to do this?”

“Leave the horse hobbled here and head down into the valley after dark. If it looks like we can, we’ll just head up the ridge road. If not, we climb the cliffside.”

“You sure you can do that in all that armour and stuff?”

“I was born in Aquilea. I learned to climb before I could walk.”

“You’re exaggerating, aren’t you?”

“Only a bit.”

“Well if you can climb it so can I.” He looked at her. She seemed small and frightened but she had pasted a look of determination on her face.

“You sure you can do this?”

“If I am not quieter than you I’ll pay you a silver piece.”

“If you’re not quieter than me, we both may be dead.”

“Then at least I won’t owe you my last farthing.”

“It might be better if you stayed here.”

“You don’t get it, do you? There’s nothing left for me. My brother is dead and possessed by a demon, my village is burned; there’s nowhere to go. I have nothing to lose and I have a chance to pay that bastard Massimo back.”

“What about your aunt?”

“I made her up.” He looked at her for a long time. He had not believed she could surprise him, but she had.

“Well, let’s find out if you made up the part about being stealthy as well.”

They moved quietly down the narrow path into the valley. It twisted down the hillside. Kormak realised that Petra was as good a huntress as she had claimed. The girl made no more noise than he did. She had her sling in her hands and her knife at the ready and for once she had stopped talking. He found that he missed her chatter now that it had ceased.

They reached the valley floor and he saw that there were still a number of camps scattered through the valley. Why were the forces split, he wondered? His best guess was that the different camps were the followers of different captains or nobles.

Slowly and carefully they moved forward. It was painstaking and tiring work. He could see that there were pickets set, and guards moving around. Did the moondogs really expect to be attacked here or was it that they did not trust each other or Massimo’s pets? Possibly it was all three reasons. It made life more difficult for him because even in the gloom, runners moved from camp to camp and men drifted backwards and forward between the fires, most likely visiting acquaintances and friends.

He gestured for Petra to freeze as he heard boots come clumping out of the dark. He held his blade ready to draw if they were noticed. Under the circumstances it would probably be better to use his hands. The sounds of combat would simply draw attention to them. They needed to pass unseen. Another terrifying howl rang out from above. It sounded like a soul in torment being bound into the form of a wolf.

“Another wolf-man is born,” said a voice in the darkness. There was fear in it.

“Massimo will make us invincible,” said another voice. “He brought Jaro back from the brink of death with his magic. His Wolves will drive the Sunlander bastards out of the mountains and Valkyria will be ours again.”

The voice spoke with a sort of booming false confidence that told Kormak its owner was scared and as much trying to convince himself as anyone listening. That provoked laughter.

“I have not noticed you volunteering, Alyx,” said the first voice. There was a sneer in it as well as laughter.

“I do my part. I don’t need to give up my soul for the land of our fathers. I leave that to heroes.” There was an ironic flourish on the word heroes. “We’re both too old for that. Leave it to the young and stupid.”

“I know what you mean,” said the first speaker, “but I would not say it too loudly in camp.”

“I won’t but who can hear us here?” There was a sound of a flask being unstoppered and its contents gulped down then passed around. Kormak cursed. It seemed like they had chosen to pass through the area where Massimo’s men slunk off to for a quiet drink. Alcohol was forbidden by many of the Lunar sects but such prohibitions had never bothered soldiers any, in Kormak’s experience. He looked over at Petra, fearing she might do something very stupid but she was just lying there, eyes wide and fearful, mouth open. She was afraid and Kormak did not blame her.

After what seemed like a long time, the men took a piss and headed back to their camp.

He lay very still, and his heartbeat and his breathing seemed very loud to him until the steps had passed away into the night. They pushed on to the foot of the hill. Kormak was starting to think that this might not be the cleverest thing he had ever done. It was going to be tricky getting out of the valley even if he killed Razhak and Massimo.

Well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

“You’re not taking the road then,” said Petra. They stood at the foot of the rock on which the tower stood. It was not a sheer face, just very steep and rocky and it became steeper the higher you went.

“It will be watched.”

“And so you’re going to climb up the cliff and then the wall.”

Kormak inspected it. “There’s enough light, we should be able to get up there in less than an hour.”

“If nobody spots us.”

“That’s true.”

“Have you ever considered the fact that you might be insane?”

“Surprisingly, I have.”

“Good because sane people don’t say the sort of things you say quite as calmly as you say them.”

“I can tell you’re scared again because you are talking too much.”

“Bloody right I am scared,” said Petra.

“Then don’t go on.”

“Yeah. I’ll just stay here in the middle of a moondog camp and wait for the sun to come up. What could possibly go wrong if I did that?”

“We’re going to climb a small mountain and break into a castle full of man-wolves, a demon and a wicked sorcerer. What could go wrong with that?”

“Neither option is very attractive but I will make the best of a bad choice.”

“That’s very wise of you.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic.”

“I don’t have time to stand here all night debating with you. I am going up. Follow me if you can.”

“Follow you? I will be at the top before you.”

She was good as her word. He had seen her climbing ahead of him, agile as a cliff-dwelling monkey, passing swiftly and silently while he struggled for a foothold, never faltering where he scrambled on dislodged stones and prayed they did not attract the attention of anyone below. He was breathing very hard and sweating by the time he pulled himself over the edge of the cliff and looked up at the walls of the tower.

“You are blowing like a horse after a ten mile gallop,” Petra said with some satisfaction. “I thought you Aquileans could climb.”

“Next time I’ll let you wear my armour and carry my sword,” Kormak said. “We’ll see how you do.”

She inspected the walls herself. “These are pretty hard. We could use daggers to spike our way up the wall but that would make a lot of noise.”

“There’s a postern gate over there.”

“It’ll be locked and guarded.”

“I doubt it will be guarded. They are not besieged and they won’t be expecting an invasion by an army of two.”

“This Razhak knows you’re after him and he will have told Massimo. Also this is a wizard’s tower. It might be protected by magic.”

“It might be but you heard the men in the valley. Massimo is working magic. I doubt he has the strength to create a wolf and set a ward at the same time.”

“What about your friend, Razhak?”

“I doubt Massimo will let him cast any spells at all. He will be too worried by the consequences.”

“You’ve thought this out, haven’t you?”

“I had plenty of time while we were climbing the cliff.”

“You got your breath back yet?”

“I never lost it.”

“No. You were just letting me take a break, weren’t you?”

“I am generous that way.”

“You know how to open a postern gate?”

“I can slide a narrow blade through the gap at the edge of the door and lift the bar. If I can’t, we have some more climbing to do.”

“Let’s get on with it then.”

Kormak slid his dagger under the bar and lifted it up. He put his weight on the door and it swung open. There was a flight of stairs leading up: tight, narrow, spiralling and easily defensible. The sort of place where only one man could fight abreast at a time and a small group of defenders could hold a larger force for ages. He pushed on up them until he came to a landing, then paused and listened.

The howls and roars still echoed through the keep. He touched the Elder Sign on his chest. It was warm with the eddy currents of magic swirling around him. He put it back under his tunic so that if the magic became strong enough to light up the threaded moonsilver star in the talisman, it would not be visible and give his position away in the darkness.

Petra was behind him now, her knife in her hand. She moved cautiously and quietly along. Kormak stuck his head round the corner and looked along the corridor. It was empty. Torches flickered eerily, sending shadows dancing.

“Not a lot of guests here,” said Petra. Kormak kept his mouth tightly shut and gestured for her to do the same. This was not the time or place for flippant jokes. A mistake here could cost them their lives.

What did she expect anyway? There was a reason why Massimo’s army was camped in the valley below. Mortal men would not want to share the keep with a sorcerer and the monsters he was creating. Anyone they encountered here was likely to be strange and dangerous.

He stepped out into the corridor and began to walk confidently along it. He had long ago learned that just the sight of someone doing this in a place where they should not have been could disarm suspicion for crucial seconds.

The howls echoed through the corridors and seemed to resonate within his bones. He guessed that whoever Massimo was transforming was not enjoying the process. This sort of magic was rarely painless and always unpleasant. He followed the sounds as best he could, moving towards the centre of the keep.

Eventually, they came to what must once have been a temple chamber. There were still statues in alcoves around the walls. A series of inscribed Lunar circles intended to channel power had been etched into the floor and filled with moonsilver. It glowed as the light of the moon flooded the room through the open shutters in the ceiling. It illuminated a naked man chained to the altar. He was the one doing the howling.

Around the chamber men stood stone faced as sentries, their faces like stone, the effort of concealing their emotions engraved on their features. A youth with a more than passing resemblance to Petra watched as a tall, powerful man stood at the altar and chanted.

Massimo was robed all in black and his hair was jet black save for two patches of white at the temples. His beard was long and black with a badger stripe of white in it, and it flowed to his waist. In his hand he held a staff which was tipped with a silver crescent moon. Runes glowed along its length as he chanted. Witchfire danced from the staff to the chains holding the man as power was transferred from one to the other.

The cloying smell of essence of nightbloom incense filled the air, along with something else, the heady, hallucinogenic reek of powdered black lotus as it burned.

“That’s Tam,” Petra said, pointing to the youth standing beside the wizard. He stood full in the moonbeam and Kormak could see their faces had a family resemblance. He could have picked the youth out as her brother even if she had not told him.

Kormak unsheathed his sword.

“You’re ready to kill someone now, aren’t you?” Petra’s voice was very quiet and he could hear the fear in it. The runes on his blade glowed. The amulet was warm against his chest. Powerful magic was at work here.

A shadow detached itself from a nearby wall. It belonged to a man. He had obviously seen Kormak. His outline blurred, there was strange stench in the air and suddenly he was larger than he had been, part man, part wolf. It opened its mouth and howled as it sprang.

The wolf-man’s jaws were open, slaver dripped from its fangs. Its arms were outstretched to claw. Kormak stepped forward and struck. Its flesh sizzled as his blade bit through its neck and severed its head from its shoulders. Its still thrashing body flopped to the ground one way, its head rolled off in another. A pool of pink pus was already starting to surround the body as it transformed back.

More of the wolf-men bounded forward. Kormak counted at least six. The largest of them, a giant with a white ruff around its grey neck and bright mad eyes, howled and gestured and the pack bounded forward.

Kormak struck left and right, severing a limb, hacking through a chest. They slashed at him with their steel-hard claws, ripping his tunic, breaking links in his mail. He felt a pain in his side as one of them drew blood. Time and again they struck at him and he bounded to one side, chopping and stabbing as he weaved through their attacks, blocking blows with cuts that severed limbs and left wolf-men clutching at stumps.

It was obvious they were overconfident, not used to being hurt. They had never encountered anything that could break their magical protections before. One of them got close enough to try and rip out his throat with its great jaws. Kormak wedged his forearm between its jaws and brought his blade forward into its stomach. He heard it sizzle as it pierced flesh. The wolf-man howled this time in agony and Kormak pulled his arm free and punched it in the snout. It fell backwards.

In the interim two more Wolves had bounded forward. Each took him by the arm, claws digging into mail and threatening to tear through the leather undershirt. Kormak felt the enormous strength of the creatures and knew he was helpless against it. He allowed himself to fall backwards pushed by the creature’s momentum. His sword dropped from his hand but he managed to get one arm free. He pulled out his amulet from beneath his tunic. The five pointed star of the Elder Sign glowed hot in its setting. He jammed it into the eye of one wolf-man. It let go as it roared and clutched its eye in a pain-filled gesture that was peculiarly human.

The other wolf-man had him by the throat. Kormak looked into its blazing hate-filled eyes and in that moment knew he was dead. The creature was stronger than he was and it was lowering its snout to rip out his throat. He threw all his strength against it, but it was useless, a child wrestling with an adult. Suddenly the wolf gave out a piercing, high pitched scream of agony. The glowing runes of a dwarf-forged blade passed through its neck. The flesh burned where it touched and the wolf dropped Kormak. He saw Petra standing there, holding the blade in her hand.

“I did good,” she said. “I’ll make a Guardian yet.”

“Maybe you will,” Kormak said, snatching the blade out of her hand and bringing it down on the wolf-man that still clutched its wounded eye. He gazed around; there was only Massimo, Razhak and the pack leader now. Kormak smiled at them.

“Who wants to die next?” he asked. His smile was very cold.

Massimo stood illuminated in the moonbeams. He looked shocked. Tam looked appalled. The giant wolf-man leader did not look at all troubled. It flexed its huge arms and stretched its hands and long talons emerged from them. It opened its mouth revealing dagger-like teeth.

“You have slain Jaro’s minions, Champion of the Sun,” said Massimo. “But you will find Jaro is a completely different proposition. I used most of my magic to bring him back from the edge of death and filled him with the mightiest of the Shadow wolf spirits. He is the first and strongest of my creations. “

“He will be the last,” said Kormak. His gaze flickered from Massimo to Tam to the giant wolf-man. It was hard to tell which was the more dangerous.

“Petra, don’t let him kill me,” Tam said. “The demon’s gone. Massimo exorcised him and fed him to his Wolves. He is going to kill me next and feed me to the Wolves.”

Tam’s voice sounded plaintive. Kormak did not dare take his eyes from his enemies to see how Petra was responding. Tam sounded fearful and very believable. Kormak wondered whether Razhak would manage to play on the ties of blood with the girl and whether he would soon have an enemy at his back. It would not be the first time he had been in such a situation.

“You’re not Tam, you’re the thing that killed him,” Petra said. Her voice sounded shaky and uncertain.

“No, sister, I am not. Please believe me. I don’t want to die.” Tam had started to edge closer to Petra by a circular route that did not take him within the reach of Kormak’s blade. His arms were spread wide. His hands were open. He was the very picture of a frightened teenage boy. Kormak let him close the gap. Anything that put the demon within striking distance was good.

“It has been interesting,” said Massimo. “Your blade is everything the tales say. I had not thought anything could wreak such havoc as you have among my creations, Guardian.”

For a moment, Kormak’s attention was split between Massimo and Tam. The giant wolf-man sprang. He was different from the others. He struck like a thunderbolt, sight-blurringly swift. His claws slashed forward and tore at the mail on Kormak’s chest, popping rings, slashing leather. He had barely time to step back and launch a counter-blow. The giant avoided it easily and struck again, claw slashing at Kormak’s shoulder. The force of the impact was like a sledge-hammer strike. Kormak wondered that nothing was broken.

“I told you, Guardian,” Massimo said.

Kormak reeled back under the huge Wolf’s savage onslaught. The wolf-man kept striking at him and hitting, too fast to be parried. Kormak realised that it was toying with him now, like a cat playing with a mouse. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Tam had reached Petra. His arms were outstretched to embrace his sister. She looked at him with tears running down her face. She looked torn between fear and gratitude, like a girl who had gotten her brother back and could not quite believe it.

“No,” Kormak shouted as she reached forward to meet Tam. In that moment, a smirk passed over the youth’s face that only Kormak could see, an expression, old and evil and inhuman that could not possibly belong to a human boy. Then his eyes widened, and he looked down to see the girl’s dagger driven through his chest and blood pumping from the wound.

“Got you, you bastard,” Petra shouted a look of triumph on her face.

“Get away from him now,” Kormak shouted as the wolf-man came at him once more. Tam fell forward his hand outstretched, and one hand closed on the girl’s shoulders. She spasmed and threw back her head to scream. A bright green glow appeared in Tam’s eyes and flared brightly. A glow surrounded the pair and then the glow was in Petra’s eyes and Tam’s decomposing form was lying on the ground. The girl now wore the evil expression, glanced in fear at Kormak and turned and ran from the chamber.

Kormak cursed. The wolf-man sprang back to the assault, a whirlwind of fanged death. It took all of Kormak’s skill just to stay alive as he backed away from the furious beast. His spine was pressed to the wall and he could retreat no further. The wolf opened his mouth and howled again. Kormak leapt forward, stabbing with the sword, as the man-wolf launched himself into a spring. The wolf-man’s greater weight slammed Kormak into the wall even as it drove the blade into the monster’s chest with additional force.

Stars danced before Kormak’s eyes and all the wind was smashed out of his body. He smelled the monster’s breath on his face even as he watched the light die from its eyes. He struggled to push himself upright as Massimo raced closer. It was a struggle pushing the wolf-man’s huge weight off but it became lighter by the second and pinkish pus leaked over Kormak as it transformed back into a large, handsome, silver-haired man.

“You killed me,” Jaro said. He sounded as if he could not quite believe it. Kormak pulled himself upright just in time to confront Massimo. The wizard held his staff ready to strike. Kormak did not doubt there were potent and deadly spells woven into it. It would be best not to let it touch him, even wearing his protective amulets.

Massimo came to a halt and stared at Kormak. Fear and hate warred on his face. Kormak’s legs felt as if they were about to give way. His body felt battered beyond belief. His chest felt as if it was on fire. He let none of his weakness show in his voice when he spoke, “There’s just you and me left now,” he said. “Soon there will be only me.”

Massimo took a step back. He knew that physically he was no match for a Guardian, potent wizard though he might be. He needed time to weave his spells.

“There’s no need for us to fight,” the wizard said, his eyes darting around the temple. Was he expecting help to come, Kormak wondered? He doubted any men at arms would come to investigate the goings-on up here but perhaps Razhak would summon them. The thought of the demon and what he had done to Petra made Kormak snarl. He owed the girl his life and he had allowed her to die. Or worse. He took a step forward.

“I can help you find the demon,” Massimo said. Kormak took another step forward. Massimo took another step back. They were walking towards the open balcony at the far end of the sacred space.

“I doubt it,” Kormak said.

“It is hurt.” Massimo said. There was an urgency in his voice as if he was desperate to convince Kormak that he had something to bargain with. “All the centuries stuck in the jar have weakened it, damaged it in some way. It does not have its full power and it needs to find new bodies or it will die from lack of energy.

Kormak took another step forward. Massimo moved away. “It told you this, did it?”

“Yes but it did not need to. I could tell just by studying its aura. It wanted my help. It wanted me to weave spells that would strengthen it before it made its journey.”

“What did it offer you in return?” Massimo licked his lips. Sweat beaded his face.

“Secrets, many magical secrets. The Ghul knows much magic that has been forgotten in this modern age.”

“And you were willing to help it in return.”

“I do what I need to do to protect my people. Its knowledge would have been helpful.”

“It will leave a trail of death across the lands. It has already begun to.” Massimo’s back was against the wall now. He held his staff out with both hands as if it could form a barrier between him and Kormak. He did not look so powerful or confident now, just a large, flaccid man with fear in his eyes.

“I can tell you where it is going,” said Massimo.

“Oh you will,” said Kormak. “One way or another. There are many ways to make a man talk and I know all of them.” He kept his voice flat and emotionless. He knew it would sound more menacing that way.

“It’s going to the dead city of Tanyth. It has to. It’s where it was born. There are magical engines there that will heal it. If it does not, it will surely die and soon.” Massimo was babbling now. The front of his robe was stained with urine. “Don’t kill me,” he said.

“You have committed crimes against the Holy Sun and his people. You have had commerce with demons. You have broken the Law. There can be only one penalty.”

Massimo suddenly swung his staff at Kormak. It was what the Guardian had been waiting for. He parried the blow and stabbed forward. Massimo’s flesh did not sizzle but he died like any other man would as Kormak’s blade pierced his heart. Kormak looked up. The full moon gazed down on him mockingly. He turned and looked on the scene of carnage. Bodies were strewn all through the temple space. There was an army waiting in the valley.

Kormak stripped off the tunic that had belonged to the Wolves. No one had opposed him when he rode out of the valley. The sentries even answered his questions when he put them.

Yes, a girl had ridden through claiming she was a courier sent with instructions to the Wolves. She was heading east, along the main road, bound for Steelriver. Kormak doubled back and took the path to where his horse waited with what remained of his gear. It was a delay but some of the things in his saddlebags would prove useful and a second steed would do no harm in the pursuit. He knew where Razhak was going now. He knew what his present form looked like. He would follow and he would kill the demon and he would take revenge for Petra and her brother and the others it had killed.

It would not escape him, even if he had to follow it to the edge of the world.