James Axler – Demons of Eden

Ryan began to strip off the wolf skin, then demanded, “Where are my clothes and weapons?”

Pizi picked up a tied deer-hide bundle from the floor and tossed it to him. Opening it, Ryan saw all his possessions, including his gun belt, SIG-Sauer, a spare ammo clip and his panga. Only the golden wafer was missing. He quickly started to take off the skin of Deathmaul.

Sisoka helped him to unlace the harness, saying, “I will treat your wounds. You need a bandage on that arm.”

Ryan pulled on his pants and buckled his gun belt around his waist before allowing Sisoka to minister to him. He sat on a buffalo robe, and with a bowl of warm water, a cloth and some sort of stinging, stinking ointment, she cleaned his scratches and lacerations. The bite on his forearm burned like a hot coal, but he knew it wasn’t as severe as it could have been.

Blood-sniffer sat on his haunches, licking the bite Ryan had inflicted. The wolf had fought with a restrained savagery, obviously not wanting to kill him unless there was no other choice.

As she bathed and bandaged his injuries, Sisoka murmured, “Tell us about yourself, Ryan Cawdor. You are now a Wolf Soldier, and we need to know of your history, of your place in the world.”

Ryan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the pressure of Pizi’s stare against his back. He rarely spoke of his past, but slowly, reluctantly, drawn out by Sisoka’s gentle encouragement and questions, he began to talk. He told her of his privileged youth as the third and youngest son of Baron Titus Cawdor in Front Royal, the largest ville in Virginia. He spoke of losing his mother, his oldest brother, his father and his left eye to his middle brother, Harvey, during an assassination attempt. He told of how he was wounded, not only in body, but in spirit, and how he fled his past and his birthright to ride with Trader on his war wags, fighting what seemed an endless battle with the human and inhuman spawn of the Deathlands.

When he spoke of Krysty and Dean, Sisoka’s lips pursed momentarily in what he interpreted as disappointment.

“I’ve seen the ruins of all the great cities, the centers of predark civilization,” he said in a monotone. “I’ve roamed in the unknown regions south, east and west and even across the sea. I’ve been a gunner, an explorer, a fatherI’ve been everything except content, and I hope to be that before I die.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “This is as good a life as any and better than most.”

Sisoka shook her head and leaned forward to help him on with his shirt. Her breasts pressed briefly into his upper arm. “A sad tale.”

“Compared to your lives here, mebbe. But to the rest of Deathlands, compared to some of the suffering I’ve seen that passes for life, not sad at all.”

“In bygone days,” Pizi said, “you would have died long before you even saw the pass to the valley. You found your way here through a traitor’s cunning, a traitor’s treachery.”

Turning to face him, Ryan said, “According to Touch-the-Sky, you’re the traitors. You refuse to use the powers at your command to heal the earth.”

Pizi shook his head vigorously, not in disagreement, but in disbelief. “Touch-the-Sky is a vain fool. He found us, several seasons ago, and immediately devoted himself to protecting this valley. He felt he was more worthy of the guardianship of the Cavern Keepers society than Sisoka and so attached himself to Towasi, my brother. When Towasi died, the hereditary title of Guardian automatically passed on to Sisoka, a tradition that has been observed for generations.”

“He told me Towasi intended for him to assume the title, because he had no sons. He said that neither he nor Sisoka had been initiated into the secret knowledge of how to call upon the cavern’s powers. He feels you practice low laws, not the high laws.”

Sisoka snorted. “First of all, Ti-Ra’-Wa is not a patriarchy. The Guardianship mantle is inherited by the first-born child of the Guardian, regardless of the sex.”

“Were you initiated into the secrets?” Ryan asked.