“I am Goldteeth,” said the other. “Pack leader of my tribe. Let all look upon me and know my strength.”
Goldteeth’s turn to howl, and this time Jerico plugged his ears with his fingers. His howl was louder, but did not last as long. He wondered which one would be considered the greater. Was that a lecture he slept through at the Citadel? Maybe he could take his knowledge back to his teachers and…
He felt a pain in his chest as he remembered his vision of the Citadel’s collapse. No, there would be no teachers, no students, no lessons. Biting his tongue to focus, as well as fight back tears, he listened as the wolf- men resumed whatever strange ritual they’d stumbled upon.
“You called us here,” Goldteeth said, his howl still ringing in Jerico’s ears. “We come to the Gathering. Why is Redclaw not here? Must he hide behind others? Must he use your strength, Bonebite?”
The larger group growled, the sound low and deep.
“Redclaw hides behind no one,” said Bonebite. “His pack is strong, and he is stronger than I. Would you insult what you cannot strike, Goldteeth?”
The other’s turn to growl and yip. Jerico strained his eyes to see. Goldteeth had bared his fangs, and he paced before Bonebite. His fingers opened and closed, as if he were imagining burying his claws into a foe.
“I hear his reason, and I come now to challenge it. Redclaw would seek to be leader of leaders, yet he will not appear at his own Gathering? I will not bow my head to such a coward. Hear me, it is I that should lead your pack. Goldteeth is the stronger, and Redclaw the weakling.”
“Then why is your pack the smaller?” asked Bonebite. He gestured toward them, as if mocking their numbers. “If you are stronger, why does your pack not rival ours?”
“You grow fat on better land,” argued Goldteeth. “You hunt by the river in your secret place, but it is secret no longer. We also hear of the weakness of Redclaw. My pack is small, but it is strong. You nurse weaklings and gray-furs. You do not cull the lesser. Two wolves can destroy twenty cows, Bonebite the gray-fur.”
“That got under his skin,” Darius muttered as Bonebite howled at the top of his lungs, the rest of his pack joining in.
“Still not sure what we’re watching,” Jerico said, raising his voice to be heard.
“A pissing contest is my guess. I also think Bonebite’s pack is the one that’s been giving us trouble.”
Jerico agreed, and he quieted down as the events unfolded. The two leaders were crouching before one another on the pile of bones, their teeth bared and their ears flattened.
“I challenge you!” Bonebite howled, and the rest of his pack nearly lost themselves in their excitement.
“You fight for Redclaw!” Goldteeth shot back. “He must accept my victory.”
“You will have no victory,” Bonebite snarled.
“Swear it!”
“Redclaw will accept!” cried Bonebite. “But you will fall to this gray-fur, you proud, stupid pup.”
“Holy shit,” Darius said, his mouth dropping open. The two wolf-men lunged with vicious speed, slashing their claws into each other’s flesh. Their teeth snapped and bit, and the blood quickly flowed. Jerico watched best he could, considering the distance and the darkness. He imagined himself fighting either, and the results didn’t seem promising. They were towering figures of muscle and fur, teeth and claw. Based on Darius’s cursing and slack jaw, Jerico could tell he felt the same.
At first, Goldteeth seemed to hold the advantage. He tore into Bonebite, his claws raking along his opponent’s shoulders. Several times he stopped to ram him, pushing Bonebite toward the edge of the bones.
“They must stay atop it,” Jerico said, suddenly realizing the match’s sole rule. “That’s how they’ll decide.”
Bonebite went defensive as his back feet pressed against the final pieces of bone. His head dipped low, and his broad shoulders curled inward, his elbows pressed tight to his sides so his hands might protect his face. The other members of the packs howled and cheered, depending on whose side they rooted for. To Jerico, it almost seemed like they cheered for the sight of blood no matter who spilled it. Goldteeth slashed at Bonebite, who swayed with the blows, preventing them from gaining any strength. Blood dripped down his arms from the shallow cuts. When Goldteeth bit, Bonebite’s claws were there, pushing him back and always threatening to hook his snout.
Losing his patience, Goldteeth suddenly lunged, all his weight bearing down on his opponent. Jerico tensed, expecting the confrontation to end, but the older wolf-man was a cunning one. Instead of trying to block the blow, or step out of the way, he stood erect and opened his arms wide. Goldteeth barreled into him, quickly wrapped in Bonebite’s iron grip. Bonebite spun, slamming Goldteeth to the bones beneath him. The two snapped at one another, but Bonebite had leverage, and his teeth sank into the vulnerable flesh of Goldteeth’s neck. The horde of wolf-men cried louder. Blood spurted across the bones.
Goldteeth was too strong to die from a single bite, though. He forced a roll, his back feet kicking and slashing wounds into Bonebite’s thighs. The two came to a stand, facing one another for a brief second. They were both badly wounded, Goldteeth seeping blood from his neck, Bonebite from the many slashes along his arms and legs. They exchanged a few swipes, but Bonebite was the faster, and his claws found flesh.
And then Bonebite dove in, with such ferocity that Jerico found himself unprepared. The wolf-man’s claws slashed and grabbed, his teeth rent flesh, and in an explosion of gore he tore Goldteeth apart. Even those of Goldteeth’s tribe cheered, showing just how deeply their loyalty ran for their leader.
Bonebite lifted Goldteeth’s heart to the moon, and as he did, the crowd quieted.
“You of Goldteeth’s pack, do not swear to me as you might have once done. You will remain a pack, separate from us, but still strong, still loyal. Find yourselves a new leader, and he will swear loyalty to Redclaw. Redclaw will be the leader of leaders! Redclaw will be the moon made flesh. Redclaw will be Wolf King!”
“This is bad,” Jerico said, his throat dry. Darius nodded in solemn agreement.
“It’s time we leave, now.”
Wolves from Goldteeth’s former pack were climbing onto the pile of bones, no doubt to battle over who would become the new leader. Jerico watched for only a moment, then turned to follow Darius back to their boat. A single frightening thought hammered his mind repeatedly: whoever this Redclaw was, Bonebite considered him stronger. How fearsome must he be in battle, for Bonebite alone looked like he could tear apart ten armored soldiers.
Halfway to the river, Darius suddenly grabbed him and flung him to the ground.
“Quiet,” he hissed, but the order was unnecessary. Jerico felt Ashhur crying warning in his head, and it pounded like a drum. They lay in the tall grass, the silence of the night all around them. And then, a hundred yards to the north, ran the wolf pack. Jerico could not count them all, but there were at least ten, if not twenty. It was their leader that held his eye, and he watched as long as he could before they vanished. The wolf-man was enormous, towering over the others even when he ran on all fours.
“We’re downwind,” Darius whispered when they were finally gone. “Thank Karak for that.”
“Ashhur as well,” Jerico said, standing. He stared in the distance, a chill running up his spine. “Where did they come from, Darius? What is it they have done?”
They found their answer at the river. Beached not far from their boat was another, this one wide and flat. When they searched it, they found no trace of the supplies that had surely been atop it, and as for the men who piloted it, they found only their blood. The river, or the bellies of the wolves, had claimed the rest. Jerico whispered prayers for the fallen men while Darius cursed and turned his gaze east.
“You were right,” said the dark paladin. “They’ll starve and weaken us, and still they watch the river. Whoever this…Redclaw is, his pack is growing. When will they attack? When will they swim over these waters and tear this village apart?”
“I don’t know,” Jerico said, finishing his prayer. “But they will. Of that, I have no doubt.”
“Come then,” Darius said, heading toward their boat. “Let us share the bad news. Tomorrow morning, they’re leaving, all of them. We cannot defeat such a force on our own.”
“What if they catch us while we flee?”
Darius laughed and reached out his hand to help Jerico into the boat.
“Then I guess we’ll have to win anyway. What’s wrong, paladin, lost your faith in the impossible? Hopefully not yet. We’ve still got to convince a couple hundred farmers and wives to leave everything they have based on the testimony of two men.”
“They’ll listen,” Jerico insisted.
“We’ll see,” Darius said, and they let the subject die.
R edclaw detected the scent of his many brethren within the hills, and it warmed his heart. His two pups, still
