Page 1 of Bearing Secrets
1
His House was in shambles.
Everywhere in the building, warriors and soldiers of High House Ursa battled one another in a senseless display of violence. The guns and other instruments of modern destruction had been put aside as the shifters descended into an orgy of personalized killing, fighting for supremacy. Debris flaked down from the ceiling, shaken loose by yet another tremendous collision nearby.
Kirell crept forward, making an insignificant amount of noise for someone his size. Behind him came a pair of figures, the trio little more than shadows in the darkened maze of hallways. The power had been one of the first things to go when the traitors had turned on the unsuspecting members of his House.
Ursidae Manor had been attacked before, and it would be again in the future; Kirell was positive of that. It was the way of things. What he and everyone else loyal to the throne had never expected, though, was that the attack would come from within. They weren’t ready for it, and the surprise had been complete.
“Which way?” Kellas hissed from behind Kirell when they arrived at an intersection of hallways.
The giant house was home to several hundred members of House Ursa, and it had the size to go along with it. Kirell thought quickly, then made a decision. Left. Toward the Throne Room.
“To the Queen,” he replied, peeking around the corner to ensure there was nobody waiting for them. There was no argument from the pair that was with him, not that he’d expected one. With the King dead, the Queen was now the ruler of High House Ursa, and Kirell would lay down his life before one traitor ever got near her.
If they haven’t already.
Pushing the dark thought from his brain, he and the men loyal to the proper way jogged down the hallway, moving as fast as they could without giving themselves away. Somewhere nearby, a beast howled in pain, a bear that had been struck a mortal blow. Whether foe or friend, Kirell didn’t know. He lowered his head and kept running, knowing his men would be right next to him.
“I can’t believe so many have been tempted into this lunacy,” Kellas muttered as they went, jumping over the corpse of a massive polar bear slumped against the wall.
Kirell ignored the comment, just the same as he ignored the squishy feeling of the carpet underfoot, wet with the freshly-spilled blood. The polar bear was Korne—or, had been. It was his corpse, and yet another friend that Kirell wouldn’t see once it was all over. He wondered idly if Korne had been loyal, or a traitor? He decided it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was linking up with the Queen’s guards and protecting her until the rebellion—he would not give it legitimacy by calling it a civil war—was under control.
Kirell had total faith that more men would remain loyal than turn traitor.
The side hallway they had been taking came to an end in a T-junction. The ceiling here was a good four feet—or more—higher, the walls decorated with tapestries and paintings depicting the glorious history of High House Ursa. Kirell knew that if he walked long enough, he would come to images showing the founding of the House, so many centuries ago.
It doesn’t matter; there’s no time for a history lesson. If we don’t save the Queen, there willbeno more history to write. You are making it right now.
The Grand Hallway was an impressive sight, one that never failed to impress, no matter how many times he’d walked along it. Now, however, he had no time to dawdle. The sounds of battle were close. He could hear the crash of something heavy striking wood, followed by shouts and muffled noises.
They were already at the door.
Without speaking, the trio launched themselves out into the Grand Hallway and at the cluster of traitors trying to break their way through the heavy doors protecting the Throne Room. They ran silently, trying to close as much distance as possible before they were spotted.
One of the traitors must have heard them, however, for he turned and shouted a warning. It was almost too late; Kirell and his men were nearly upon them.
“FOR THE QUEEN!” he shouted, surging forward with an extra burst of speed.
Kirell’s men echoed his cry, and they leapt upon the traitors with a ferocity borne from fury at the betrayal of their House, of all that they held dear. Blood flew, spattering the walls and ruining the ancient pictures. Men screamed. Bones broke.
Ursidae died.
It pained Kirell to put down members of his House. For so long, they’d struggled to maintain their numbers, and now he was helping the humans out, committing their savagery for them.
Yet he had no choice. As a soldier, a guard of the House, it was his job to protect it, and Kirell didn’t shirk from any task. As he fought, his body changed.
Brown fur turned black as blood matted it down; it continued sprouting along his arms, the limbs themselves thickening. Fingers became claws. His jaw reshaped itself one jerky movement at a time, jutting forward just in time for him to latch his powerful jaws around the throat of his opponent and tear it free in a welter of blood.
Outnumbered, the trio fought like berserkers of old, giving in fully to the battle lust singing through their bodies. Kirell didn’t feel any of the wounds inflicted upon him, though he could see the blood flying from his body as he was pushed back by the weight of numbers. They were up against twice their number, and though they were all soldiers in the house guard, so were their enemies.
Kirell pushed any thought of defeat from his mind and fought on like a crazed beast. Slashing and biting, he felt the blood drip from his jaws, the tangy taste of iron filling all his taste buds as he dug into his enemy over and over again.
They weren’t enough. Karre fell, and Kellas was hurt. A moment later, Kirell was the only one left on his feet as his remaining soldier staggered and fell.
“I’ll hold them off!” Kellas roared, letting himself complete the change while Kirell tried to defend him.
