Page 84 of Father of the Wolf

Now that offer was unexpected. The scum actually thought he might join them. And the choice did have its appeal. To be able to kill and pillage his way through this world. To be without judgment or guilt. But it was far too late for him to ever be free of guilt. It was true he had few qualms about killing, but he still held honor, or the pale remnants of his honor. He clung desperately to that tiny piece of his heart that was still uncorrupted.

But Bequlf didn’t understand that. Few could. Bequlf took his hesitation as consideration and stepped closer, loosening his grip on the girl. “Think of it! We could be unstoppable. Together, we could lay whole towns to waste.”

Sgrios laughed. “Been there. Done that. Taught the class.” The girl closed her eyes to shut him out. She obviously thought he was joining Bequlf.

With a show of mettle, she bit down on Bequlf’s hand and shoved herself free, stumbling down the path and screaming for help. She fell but kept crawling away.

Sgrios was impressed by the girl’s spirit. He leapt at Bequlf and knocked him to the ground. Bequlf’s knife was torn from his hand as they struggled for leverage. Just as Sgrios grabbed one hand, Bequlf reached one of the discarded blades. The knife tore upwards between his ribs with a horrible, ripping pop.

Sgrios pinned Bequlf against the hard packed dirt of the trail and freed his long bottled emotions. All his pain, anger, and guilt. Then his sadness, loneliness, and grief poured out. Last was the most terrible, his lack of purpose, and the barren emptiness that was his existence.

No one could handle the severe emotional load he carried. Not even one with all of Bequlf’s depravities.

Sgrios stood slowly, staring down at the man he could have become. Bequlf lay unconscious, covered in his and Sgrios’ blood, but physically unharmed.

The girl would need tending. She would have caught some of the barrage of emotion as well. He found her braced against the side of a thick tree. Her paint pony had returned and stood quivering over her motionless body. He crouched next to her and laid his bloody palm to her forehead, pulling the wild magic back and easing her awake.

She gasped and jerked away from his touch. “Please, don’t hurt me,” she said, but she didn’t try to run. Then he remembered she hadn’t been able to earlier.

“I won’t hurt you.” He looked her over for injuries and saw that her ankle was twisted at an odd angle. “I can help your leg if you’ll let me. Will you?”

She nodded. “You stopped him, didn’t you?”

“You helped me.” He slid her pant leg out of the way and gently healed her ankle. It had been broken, not just sprained. “You were very courageous.”

“No, I wasn’t. I was afraid.”

“It’s okay to be afraid. You’re brave because you acted despite your fear.”

Her gaze followed a drop of blood running down his side. “You’re hurt, too.”

“Not too bad,” he said, regardless of the amount of blood he had lost from the serious stab wound. He had been hurt worse and still lived. More the pity. He would survive this as well.

Her pony stiffened and the girl’s eyes widened. “Watch out!” she cried.

* * *

Rath dragged Dàn behind the car and began searching for his gunshot wound. “Damn it Dàn, when will you ever learn to duck? You have no self-preservation skills at all. I’m beginning to think that watching your back is a full time job. You’d better hope I never decide I’ve paid you back enough. What would you do then? I’ll tell you. You’d get yourself killed in the first thirty seconds.”

Where in hell had he been hit? Rath ripped open Dàn’s shirt, searching for what surely must have been a mortal wound while he continued to rant.

“Duck. That’s all I’m saying. Duck. You protect everyone else and forget to duck. I know you have the ability to shield if ducking is beneath your dignity, but you don’t bother to do that either.”

The strange red mist covered Dàn’s chest so thickly Rath couldn’t see the entry wound. Damned mist. He reached into it, feeling for the injury.

“I mean, how many times can you die, anyway? You’re a wolf, not a cat! Sooner or later, it will be the real deal, the end. Is that your plan? Have you lived long enough? The least you can do is not get yourself killed when I have to watch. I’m not squeamish about much, but I don’t want to have to keep watching you get splattered all over the place.”

The mist crackled around his hands but didn’t burn him as it had before. Still, he could find no wound. Certainly, anything that could knock Dàn from his feet would leave a pretty large hole. But where?

“And in the name of Loki, if you are not going to duck, at least you could have the kind of injury that I can find and heal. Why are you not breathing? You’re just laying here. You’re starting to really piss me off!”

* * *

Athair searched for men still loyal to Sandulfr. Sundair was fighting hand to hand with one man, two were behind a table unsure of what to do, and the last had been caught.

They needed to all work together. “Leth, go get those two and free the one who’s being held over there. I will help Sundair secure this side.”

“Fine. Here. Take my spare knife.” He held it out.

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