his left arm into his shirt.
Blood turned away, picked up Karn’s dropped daggers. The wolf sat in front of his master, dropped the daggers at the scout’s feet. Karn retrieved the daggers, sheathed them at his belt. Blood licked his muzzle, groaned. Karn removed the rod from the loop at his side, let the lash fall, raised it, struck Blood.
The wъlfbunde yelped, shied. Karn struck again with the lash, grabbed the leather, struck the wolf with the rod. Blood crouched, pressed himself down, away. Karn followed, lashing, striking with the rod.
Blood leaped up, catching Karn between strikes, paws on the scout’s shoulders, teeth bared. Karn kept his balance with a step backward. He forced the rod up into Blood’s lower jaw, knocking the wolfs jaws shut. He turned and pushed his right shoulder into Blood’s throat and forced the wolf onto his hack.
Karn pointed the rod. “You let me he attacked!” he said. “Is this the sacred hond of Canus? Why?”
Blood howled, was cut off by a kick reopening the recent wound in his side. Karn used the lash again, stripped fur from Blood’s flank. The wolf moaned, crawled away on his belly. Karn lashed Blood’s flank.
“Remember the oath as I do, wiilfbunde. My life for yours, yours for mine.”
The Forsaken howled. Karn bared his fangs at Blood. He raised the rod. The Forsaken howled. Karn growled and kicked at Blood, missed. He snarled, pointed into the forest. Blood crawled toward the howl of the Forsaken, raised himself, eyes on Karn. Karn swept the rod toward the dark. Blood loped into the undergrowth. The Forsaken howled. Karn followed Blood.
The Forsaken had run in a straight line from the fight. The forest floor was black with leaves where the trail stopped. Karn lost the trail. Blood put his nose to the ground, sniffed, walked past Karn, sniffed the leaves. He looked left, right, sniffed again. Sat and moaned.
“Found it?” Karn asked. Blood coughed. “Do it.”
Blood lowered himself to the ground, crawled, put his nose into the leaves. He sat up, sneezed, shook his head, sneezed again. He tried again, walking onto the leaves, poking his muzzle toward the forest floor. He sneezed and moaned.
Karn bent down, rubbed dirt between his fingers. He sniffed, sneezed, stood and wiped the dirt onto his shirt. “Bdnscent. He’s trying to throw us off the scent. Don’t put your nose in it.”
Blood paced back into the undergrowth, kept his nose higher, sniffed, moaned, sniffed again. Picked a direction, waited for Karn to follow. Karn readjusted his useless left arm, drew a knife.
The new moon set behind the mountains. Stars and the distant red halo from the Lords of Doom lit the forest. Karn and Blood walked carefully, quickly across the floor. Blood stopped, sniffed the ground, almost sneezed, tried again. Headed east, continued until he reached a small pond.
Karn knelt, brushed his knuckles over the grass at the water’s edge. He sheathed the knife, put his hand into the water, rubbed it over his face and into his nose to clear the banscent. He did the same for Blood. Scratched the wolf between the ears. Blood lowered his head, lapped from the pond. The Forsaken howled nearby. The two dashed away from the pond. Karn drew his knife.
The forest grew lush where the Lords of Doom lightly spread their ash. Blood followed the howl of the Forsaken, the howl sounding again around the far side of the pond. Karn ran behind, checked his strides to avoid fallen tree limbs, short brush. His left arm jogged loose. He tucked it back.
Blood ran straight. The wolves of the patrol appeared to Blood’s right, hidden from Karn by trees, matched Blood’s pace, Arana’s wiilfbunde in front. Karn watched his feet and Blood’s trail. The Forsaken howled. Blood increased his pace. Arana’s wiilfbunde coughed. Blood leaped right.
Following, Karn slipped, fell, undergrowth cracking with his weight. He slid down the hillside, struck the knife into the dirt, lost his grip, clawed. His right leg struck an outgrowth of roots, buckled. He tumbled to the bottom, landing hard on his back. Blood stopped, wheeled, returned to where he had leaped. Looked down at his master.
Karn did not move.
The wolves of the patrol walked to the hillside edge, peered down the hill at Karn, then at Blood. Arana’s wiilfbunde bit his paw, reopened the wound, and dragged a red line in the dirt. Blood shied away, paced near the edge, finally sat. He looked down at Karn, moaned.
Arana’s wiilfbunde licked at the newest wounds of Karn’s lashes, where the gash had been reopened, fur had been stripped. Arana’s wiilfbunde bared teeth, growled at Karn. The black wolf drew a line in the dirt, then the brown, then the mottle-furred. Arana’s wъlfbunde put a paw near the line in the dirt, started to drag another line to form a cross.
Blood snarled, clenched his jaws over the wolfs paw before the cross could be finished, pushed the other wolf away. Blood barked at the other wolves, then carefully edged over the edge of the hillside, inched his way to the bottom. Blood poked his muzzle under Karn’s chin, took hold of the scout’s uniform shirt in his teeth, and shook.
Karn lifted his head. He breathed deeply, tried to raise himself. Blood forced his body behind the man’s back and lifted. Karn raised himself to a sitting position. Waited, then stood. His right leg was weak but supported his weight.
“The Dark is not in me, Blood. The others don’t understand. You do. You know. The Bond between us is strong.”
Blood circled his master, yelped. Karn put his left arm back into his shirt, fastened his shirt over his arm to ensure it would not slip out. He checked himself for new abrasions, found the wound in his shoulder was bleeding again. The bandage around his throat was damp on the outside. Blood sat, panting. Karn touched his canines to his lip, stared at his wiilfbunde, removed the rod from his belt.
“Never have you failed me twice,” Karn said. “You are the best of all wulfbunde. By dagger and fang, you are the best. With you, I have long been blessed by Canus. I will remind you.”
Karn raised the rod and struck Blood once. Blood howled, the other wulfbunde howled. The Forsaken heard and howled in return. Blood stumbled away, ran in a circle, bit, and licked his flank where the rod had struck. The wolf spat, barked fury at his master, moaned, crawled and leaped up, barked again. Karn replaced the rod at his side, checked the bandage at his throat, securing the end.
“I am off to find the Forsaken,” Karn said. He left Blood standing.
The wolves of the patrol made their way down the hillside wall after Karn was gone. Blood limped. Arana’s wъlfbunde drew a red line in the dirt. Blood bit his own paw, crossed the line, judgment on his master made.
Karn followed the howl of the Forsaken. He put weight on his left leg, dragged and hopped on his right. His left arm was still secure in his shirt. He held his last dagger in his right hand. The Lords of Doom shook the leaves. Their light faded with the dawn.
The undergrowth was constant and not high. The path Karn found was clear-crushed leaves, snapped branches, curving around north, west. The hillside’s base sloped back up toward Neraka. Karn was forced to work harder.
His uniform shirt was dark with his sweat and blood. The bandage around his neck was wet near the wound, dry where the cloth had once been soaked. The end of the bandage was loose. Karn kept his pace steady. He used the trees to support himself. He didn’t stop moving. He bared his canines and breathed quickly. The forest was quiet.
The Forsaken’s path led back to the original encampment. The fire was still lit. The cross in the dirt made by Arana had not been blown away by the wind. Karn did not enter the encampment. He hunched by a tree, scouted. He held his dagger to his chest, waited, stood.
From behind, the Forsaken leaped on Karn, forcing him into the encampment.
Karn twisted, brought the dagger around as he fell on his back. The edge of the blade caught the Forsaken on the bridge of the nose, bone cracking, skin shorn. The Forsaken howled, dropped on top of Karn with a knee, breaking ribs.
The Forsaken pinned Karn’s arm with a knee, bared bloody canines, and struggled to reach Karn’s throat. Karn struck with his left leg, tumbled the Forsaken up and over. The Forsaken rolled, twisted, jumped to his feet.
The wolves of the patrol stood behind the Forsaken. Blood stood behind the cross in the dirt, Karn’s lashings still fresh on the wolfs body.
Karn turned, got to his feet, dagger ready. He looked past the Forsaken into Blood’s eyes, at the cross in the
