Something at the edge of his vision caught Ager’s attention; he saw a young sow making a break for the tall grass and spurred his horse after it. The sow saw him and turned away. Ager cursed loudly. Now he would have to put the spear between the karak’s shoulder blades, a much more difficult shot, especially with his one eye. He waited until the mare was close enough to trip up the sow and thrust down with his weapon. The spear lodged in the hollow just above the sow’s neck. The karak grunted and its forelegs collapsed; it somersaulted into the dirt, jerking Ager’s spear out of his hand, and was still.
Ager gave a triumphant cry. That’s my second! Won’t Kumul be sorry he didn’t come on the hunt!
He checked to make sure there were no karaks nearby, quickly dismounted, and used his knife to finish off the sow. Then he heard a sound that came from no karak. He spun around and saw something long and gray and half the size of a Chett mare leap from the grass into the clearing. It ran under one of the horses and flashed wide jaws, tearing at the horse’s belly. The mare screamed, bucked, and its rider fell heavily to the ground, the horse collapsing on top.
My God! Ager thought. That’s a grass wolf!
The beast had not waited to finish off its first victim, but raced on to get under another horse. The rider saw the wolf coming and tried to wheel away, but the wolf was too quick; it used its teeth to slash at the horse’s throat. There was a whip of blood and the horse went down, her rider still in the saddle. The wolf jumped over the mount and tore at the rider’s throat, then leaped away.
Ager could not believe the speed of the creature. Most of the remaining horses clumped together, instinctively trying to get some protection from numbers, but their riders knew this was the worst thing they could do and desperately tried pulling them apart to give them some room to maneuver.
Ager pulled his spear out of the sow and jumped onto the back of his own mare. He tried to get it to charge the wolf, but all she would do was roll her eyes and pull back. He saw the wolf cutting across the clump of horses, trying to find a way in. A javelin whizzed by its ear and then an arrow.
One of the horses broke free of the group and Ager saw its rider was Korigan, her tall golden body leaning low over the horse’s neck. The wolf zigzagged away from her, heading for the grass, easily outpacing Korigan’s mare. Korigan loosed a short, white hunting arrow. It twanged into the ground only a step in front of the wolf’s muzzle and the beast veered back toward the water hole. Without hesitation, Korigan’s mare followed it and her Chetts shouted in admiration. And then they shouted in consternation as the wolf double backed, slashing at the horse’s fetlocks. The horse stumbled and Korigan flew over the mare’s head, landing on her shoulder. The queen pinned her bow to her chest and rolled. The wolf paid her no attention, driving into her horse and disemboweling it with two savage bites.
By now Gudon had broken free from the mass of stamping horses. He threw his javelin wildly, hoping to divert the wolf’s attention from his queen. It worked. The wolf leaped, its jaw snapping only a finger’s breadth from Gudon’s face. The Chett drew his long sword,and tried desperately to turn his mount, but again the wolf was quicker almost than the eye could see and was already behind Gudon. His mare panicked, reared back, and Gudon fell heavily to the ground and was still. Korigan sprinted to his side, grabbing for his sword. The wolf howled, the sound almost gleeful, and charged toward the two humans.
And then there was another howl, more terrifying, but it did not come from the wolf. A third horse split from the main group and Ager saw its rider was Lynan.
“No!” Ager shouted. “Lynan, no!” He dug his spurs so hard into his mare’s flanks the horse actually started forward, but even so, he knew he would be too late to stop his prince.
“He shouldn’t be out there!” Kumul declared, waving his hand vaguely toward the horizon. Some nearby Chetts instinctively moved back from the giant’s reach.
Jenrosa, diminutive next to him, suppressed a smile. “And where exactly should Lynan be?”
“Back here, of course, planning his next move. Instead, he’s out gallivanting with Ager and Gudon—both of whom should know better!”
“It was Korigan’s idea. She is not someone to be ignored.”
Kumul looked around him sourly and lowered his voice. “She may be queen of these Chetts we’ve landed with, but Lynan outranks her. Instead, he behaves as if she was heir to the throne of Grenda Lear.”
“He is making friends.”
“He has friends.”
Jenrosa could not help the smile this time. “Really, Kumul. I know you are an impressive figure, and Ager is a great fighter, but if he’s to win back his birthright, he needs more than the three of us on his side.”
Kumul harrumphed and returned to staring out over the horizon. “Be that as it may—”
“Besides, Lynan needs to build up his confidence again. He hasn’t been on a horse since the battle with Rendle’s mercenaries. And he deserves some time free of worry.”
“Don’t we all?”
“You could have gone on the hunt.”
“I’ve got more important things to do.”
“Like standing here complaining about Lynan having more important things to do?”
The giant nodded. “Exactly.” He heard Jenrosa laugh, and refused to face her. Just the same, he could not help grinning through his salt-and-pepper beard.
“I must sound like a fool sometimes,” he said quietly after a while.
Jenrosa gently touched his arm. “No, never a fool.”
Kumul turned to her. He wanted to take her hand and hold it close to him. He wanted to kiss her face. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I usually am. But about what in particular this time?”
“Lynan. He needs a break from the camp. He’s been sick for so long the ride will probably do him good. I hope he’s all right.”
Jenrosa saw in his eyes the great love he held for the prince. When Lynan was so badly wounded he was at death’s door, she had overheard Kumul speaking to him, and for the first time had truly understood that he looked on Lynan as his own son. It was also the first time she suspected she might feel more for Kumul than respect and grudging friendship.
“I worry about him, that’s all,” Kumul added. “I worry about him all the time, especially since ...”
“Since the change?”
Kumul nodded. “I know you had no choice. If you hadn’t given him the wood vampire’s blood, he would have died from his wounds after his encounter with Rendle’s mercenaries. You saved his life, Jenrosa. But although we know it’s changed his skin and his reaction to light, we don’t know what’s happened to his mind.”
“He’ll be fine,” Jenrosa said and heard the doubt in her own voice. This time she had to force a smile. “Anyway, what could go wrong when Ager and Gudon are with him?”
* * *
The wolf lunged at Korigan. She fended it off with a clumsily aimed blow from Gudon’s sword. The beast twisted aside and lunged again. Korigan fell back, tripped over Gudon’s body, and fell to the ground. The wolf tensed for a final assault, and Korigan knew she was going to die.
The wolf leaped.
And suddenly was hurled aside. At first Korigan did not know what had happened. There was a spray of dust and a wild melee, the wolf bending over itself to snap at whatever it was that had grappled it. Then she recognized the Kendran prince. His small white figure was attached to the wolf’s back. She gasped and stood up, ready to go to his rescue, then realized with shock he needed no rescuing. Somehow he was bearing the wolf down to the ground. She saw one of his arms curl under the wolf’s neck and pull up. There was a sickening crack and the beast went limp, its tongue lolling from its great jaws.