asked.
“I don’t have much choice,” said Kormak so softly only she could hear. “The Ghul is free and someone needs to stop it.”
“Does it have to be you?” she asked. “I am mistress here now and I could find a place for you in my retinue.”
“You already know the answer to that,” said Kormak. “Anyway, you already got what you really wanted.”
“What was that?”
“Revenge on your husband. His estate for yourself.”
“I find I could dislike you, Sir Kormak.”
“Many people do,” he said.
The snow had stopped. Tracks led away east towards the Mountains of Darkness. Kormak adjusted his scabbard and drew his cloak tight then urged his horse onwards. Behind him, on the battlements surrounding the manor, Lady Kathea waved.
Kormak did not wave back. He kneed his horse forwards, towards the distant peaks.
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
“I don’t have much choice,” said Kormak so softly only she could hear. “The Ghul is free and someone needs to stop it.”
“Does it have to be you?” she asked. “I am mistress here now and I could find a place for you in my retinue.”
“You already know the answer to that,” said Kormak. “Anyway, you already got what you really wanted.”
“What was that?”
“Revenge on your husband. His estate for yourself.”
“I find I could dislike you, Sir Kormak.”
“Many people do,” he said.
The snow had stopped. Tracks led away east towards the Mountains of Darkness. Kormak adjusted his scabbard and drew his cloak tight then urged his horse onwards. Behind him, on the battlements surrounding the manor, Lady Kathea waved.
Kormak did not wave back. He kneed his horse forwards, towards the distant peaks.
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
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