Jovan's Gaze. Aaron Ph.D. Dov
Kronan wolf, evil even before the magic mangled his form, would be thankful of death. Nonsense.
A moment's revere was all I could afford, and then I was up again. I wiped the blood from my face. It was still warm, and the smell of iron mixed with something I could not place, nor had the time to think on. Erik was quickly approaching, and I had no time to think deep thoughts about what had occurred.
"What are you doing?" he snarled as he approached.
"Keep up!" I called back.
I turned on my heel and dashed onward. A second Kronan wolf appeared ahead of us, leaping from behind a tree. I slashed at it, catching it in the shoulder. Like the other wolf, this one still carried the armor of its days as a soldier of the Dark Kingdom. My sword glanced harmlessly off the rusted armor, and I lost my balance. I stumbled forward, the beast missing me in its leap. I tried turning to meet the beast, but my right foot caught a stone and I tripped. As the creature reeled on me, itself well footed and ready for the kill, it suddenly jerked forward clumsily. I rolled aside as it struck the ground. I heard the clank of metal against metal. It was Erik's sword, driven through the beast and striking its armored shoulder plate.
Erik hurried to me from some several strides away. He had thrown the enormous blade, heavy though it was. I smiled briefly at the feat, his prowess still there when needed, even beneath the cobwebs of age. He lifted me from the ground, with me using my sword to help steady myself. As soon as I was up, he took hold of his sword, pulling it from the beast. The blade scraped against the bones of the Kronan wolf as he drew it from its new flesh-scabbard, just below the right shoulder. It was a sickening sound, and the creature's lung sighed its last, as the air escaped through the wound.
"What now?" he asked.
I gestured behind us. "Look," I said through hard breathing. "They have stopped."
Indeed, the pack had stopped. Until that moment, I had not truly understood what pursued us. A pack of Kronan wolves, yes, but I had taken their number to be fifty, no more. Instead, the pack pursuing us numbered several hundred, all of them slowing to a walk, and finally stopping. They were silent, save for the panting from the pursuit. All eyes, red and glowing angrily, were upon us. No, they were upon me. I felt them as I had the first wolf's. I had the feeling that something was crawling up the back of my neck, only this time far more powerful. They glared at me, and I felt the glares press upon me. Still, none approached beyond the corpse of my first victim, just as I had expected.
"What is this?" Erik grumbled. "Why do they not just finish it?"
I took Erik by the shirt, pulling it to goad him onward. We started trotting away, keeping the motionless pack in our sight as we hurried from its sight. As soon as we started moving, the beasts began to howl. It was a baleful sound, menace mixed with sorrow. They entire pack howled thus, and it drove Erik and I onward as surely as the threat of their fangs and claws. As the pack receded out of sight, hidden by the trees, we picked up speed. The trees seemed to fly by us as we ran. The sound of the howls chased us through the forests, as though the sounds themselves were angrier than the wolves which created them, and more willing to pursue us. Still, the howls grew quieter, more distant.
We listened for sounds of pursuit, but of course I knew there would be none. The pack was likely where we left it, if not already turned to return to its own proper home in Meekwood Forest. Still, we kept alert for sounds of danger. Thankfully, none came. I sensed nothing but the confused, angry glare of my fellow, who was too winded from the run to ask what was no doubt foremost on his mind.
We did not stop running for perhaps an hour, when we finally cleared the tree line. The lush, green fields of our home stretched out before us. We were on the soil of our Mother, Esis, and the sun seemed all the warmer for it. The grass was long, swaying in a slight breeze. We kept moving, though. These fields were not friendly, nor had they been since the days of the plagues. Here the winds and grasses swayed maliciously, sometimes even violently, hoping to drive their victims eastward toward a nearby tar pit. Thankfully, as cruel as the intent of the winds and grass might be, they were nothing more than winds and grass. Travelers needed simply to keep moving.
"How did you know?" Erik asked when we finally slowed to a walk. "How did you know they would not run us down?"
I held my tongue for a while, perhaps a minute. I pondered how best to word my reply. Would he understand? Would he think me darker, having heard the truth? I did not want to lie to a friend such as him, who had seen me through half a life's worth of strife. Still, the truth would not improve my image in his eyes. What to say?
"Jovan?" he said, grabbing my arm, stopping me.
The breeze picked up, and the grass swayed more violently, as it sensed the chance to harry potential victims. The breeze began to howl in my ears, and the long grass whipped at us, almost grabbing at our legs. I ignored it, as did Erik. His eyes interrogated me, and I averted my gaze.
"Jovan, how did you know the Kronan wolves would not run us down?" His question was more intensely asked this time, and I would not dare make him ask it a third time. I could sense the anger in him.
I could not think of how to phrase it, so I simply stated it as though a mere fact, unimportant and beneath explanation. "Kronan wolves never attack without their leader. I killed the leader, and you his mate."
"How did you know that wolf was their leader?" His tone was no less suspicious.
I shook my head. "Their leader always come in from the front. They hunt like that, always. Their leader moves ahead of the pack, and when it spots prey between itself and the pack, it brings more wolves to it. Then the main pack drives the prey into the leader's group, and they bring it down." I looked past him, seeing it in my mind. "They feed right there, their feet covered in the still-warm blood of the prey. Sometimes the creature is not altogether dead when they start feeding."
Erik's eyes narrowed with that wary glare of his. I carried on.
"When I saw the pack leader out in the open," I continued, "I realized that the other wolves had not caught up with him yet. So, I took the initiative and charged. Once it was dead, I knew the pack would stop. I have seen it before."
The silence hung between us, with only the sound of the malevolent breeze and swaying of the grass to beat against our ears. Erik's eyes searched my own for the truth, as though he expected that I was lying to him.
"You never mentioned to me that you had seen these things hunt before. Why?"
I shrugged. "You keep telling me that nobody wants to hear my stories, so I stopped telling them."
"This is one I want to hear, Jovan." He grumbled again, the sure sign of his annoyance. "And perhaps, at some point during the tale, you can explain why it is that a pack of Kronan wolves, who have not once ventured outside their own tiny forest, suddenly decided to cross open ground and enter a forest that is not familiar hunting ground, all to kill two men."
I shrugged again. "How would I know that, Erik?"
"Not once, Jovan! Not once!" He yelled, and the breeze blew harder, the grasses rustling more, as though excited by the anger shown here.
"What do you want me to say?" I asked quietly.
I realized then that he still held my arm, and was squeezing tightly. It hurt, his powerful grip tightening ever more. He shook his head, and the look of anger that covered his face deepened, darkened.
"They were following you, Jovan." He nodded. "I think they were stalking you."
"Why?"
He looked me over, shaking his head in disgust. "They can smell it on you, that place!"
He pushed me backward, and I stumbled several steps away from him. He stabbed at me with a pointed finger. "This is what I am talking about, Jovan! This is what I mean. You insist on going there, to Skyreach, and this is what happens.