Here on this very ground, undoubtedly, had been performed certain hideous and repugnant rites that he had no knowledge of and was glad he had no knowledge of. Here humans may have died as sacrifices. Here blood had been spilled upon the ground, here obscene practices had been acted out, here monstrous entities had trod with evil intent–and not only recently, but extending back into unguessed time, perhaps into that time that anteceded mankind.
Daniel walked up close to where he was sitting, thrust down his head to nuzzle at his master. Duncan stroked the big horse’s head, and Daniel snorted softly at him.
From the west a wolf howled, and it seemed that this time the howl was closer.
Conrad came striding up to stand near the horse and man.
“We’ll have to keep the fire burning high throughout the night,” he said. “Wolves have a fear of fire.”
“We have naught to fear of wolves,” said Duncan. “They are not driven by hunger. There is plenty for them to pull down and eat out there in the woods.”
“They are closing in,” said Conrad. “I have been catching glimpses of their eyes.”
“They are curious. That is all.”
Conrad hunkered down beside Duncan. He pushed the head of his club back and forth upon the ground.
“What do we do tomorrow?”
“I suppose we go on hunting for Andrew’s trail.”
“And what if we don’t find the trail?”
“We’ll find it. There had to be a trail across these hills.”
“What if enchantment closes the trail to us? Makes us not to see it.”
“We escaped the enchantment, Conrad.” Although, Duncan reminded himself, he had entertained the thought, earlier in the day, that the enchantment might still be with them.
“We are lost,” said Conrad. “We don’t know where we are. I don’t think Andrew knows.”
Out at the edge of the firelight circle two eyes gleamed back at Duncan and then, almost instantly, were gone.
“I saw one of your wolves just now,” he said to Conrad. “Or at least his eyes.”
“Tiny has been watching,” Conrad said, “pacing back and forth. He knows they are out there.”
They were moving in closer now. The darkness at the edge of the campfire circle was rimmed by shining eyes.
Tiny went walking out toward them. Conrad called him back. “Not yet, Tiny. Not quite yet.”
Duncan rose to his feet.
“We’re in for it,” said Conrad quietly. “They are getting set to rush us.”
Daniel switched around to face the gathering wolves. He tossed his head, snorting in anger. Tiny, coming back, ranged himself by Conrad. His ruff was lifted and a growl gurgled in his throat.
One of the wolves paced forward. In the firelight his gray fur seemed almost white. He was large and raw-boned, a death’s head of a wolf. He seemed to teeter forward, his great gaunt head thrust out, the lips pulled back from the fangs, his eyes glittering in the reflection of the flames.
Another wolf came up behind and to one aide of him, stopped with its head at the first wolf’s shoulder.
Duncan drew his blade. The rasp of drawn metal was harsh in the silence that had fallen on the clearing. The firelight glinted off the shining steel.
He said to the horse beside him, “Steady, Daniel, steady, boy.”
At a quick shuffle of feet behind him he risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that it was Andrew. He held the staff half lifted. The cowl had fallen to his shoulders, and his graying hair was a halo in the firelight.
From the darkness at the edge of the clearing a voice spoke, loud and clear, but using words that Duncan had never heard before–not English, neither Latin nor Greek, nor with the inflection of the Gaulish tongue. Words that were harsh and guttural and with a snarl in them.
At the words the wolves came charging in: the big wolf that had first appeared paced by the second one that had come up to stand with him, and others racing out on each side, coming in half crouched, tensed to leap, bursting from the dark at the signal or the command of the one who had spoken from the darkness.
At Duncan’s side, Daniel reared up, striking out with his front hoofs. Tiny was a streak of unleashed hatred lunging at the beasts. The big wolf rose, soaring effortlessly from the ground, his jaws aimed at Duncan’s throat. The sword licked out and caught his outstretched neck, hurling him to one side with the impact of the thrust.
The second wolf, running beside him and leaping as he ran, crumpled under Conrad’s club. Out in front of Conrad, Tiny seized a third by the throat and with a powerful toss of the head sent him spinning through the air.
Another wolf leaped at Duncan, fangs gleaming, mouth wide open for the strike. Even as Duncan lifted the blade, a spearlike stick came thrusting from one side and impaled the beast in its open mouth, ramming deep into its throat. The wolf folded in midair, but the impact of its leap carried it forward, taking the spear with it as it fell.
Duncan’s foot caught on the falling stick and he was thrown to his knees. A wolf was rushing in at him and he jerked up the blade, but even as he did, Daniel reached out with a driving hoof, catching the animal behind its hunched shoulder blades. The wolf went down with a crunch of snapping bones.
Duncan surged to his feet, and as he did he saw Tiny on the ground, locked in battle with one of the beasts, and another charging in, with a raging Conrad standing close beside the dog, club lifted and ready for the charging wolf. And just beyond the embattled dog, Beauty was struggling frantically to tug free of one of the beasts that had caught her by a foreleg, with two other wolves rushing in upon her.
Duncan lunged to Beauty’s aid, but he had taken no more than a step or two when a raging fury, brandishing two burning brands, streaked toward the burro’s attackers. One of the brands went spinning through the air, turning end for end, and the two charging beasts sheered off.
“Meg!” Duncan shouted. “Meg, for the love of God, watch out!” But she paid him no attention, running like the wind, her ancient body wobbling on her shaky legs that seemed to twinkle with her speed even as she wobbled. She lifted the one remaining brand and brought it down on the wolf that had Beauty by the leg. The wolf yelped and spun away, went whimpering out into the darkness.
From the darkness came again the loud, clear voice speaking in the unknown tongue, and as the words rang across the clearing, all the wolves turned about and ran.
Duncan came to a halt and turned slowly to his left. Daniel stood beside the fire, and a short distance from him Andrew had one foot on a dead wolf to hold it down while he tugged desperately to free the staff rammed deep into its throat.
Conrad and Meg were walking toward the fire, with Tiny trailing, while behind Tiny came the limping Beauty. Here and there lay the bodies of the wolves. One of them, possibly the one that Daniel had struck, was trying to pull itself along with frantically working forelegs, its hind quarters dragging.
As Duncan walked toward the fire, Andrew suddenly screamed, let go of the staff on which he had been tugging, and backed away from the dead wolf, his hands lifted to his face.
“No! No!” he screamed. “No, not that!”
Duncan ran toward him and then stopped short, staring at the dead wolf in shocked amazement and disbelief.
The body of the wolf was slowly changing and as he watched in horror, it became the body of a naked woman, with the hermit’s staff still protruding from her mouth.
Beside Duncan, Meg chirped at him in a high and squeaky voice. “I could have told you, but I never had a chance. It happened all too fast.”
Conrad stepped past Duncan, grasped the hermit’s staff in one hamlike hand, and jerked it free.
The body of the wolf beyond the woman had turned into a man, and out beyond the two of them, the thing with the broken back that had been dragging itself away wailed suddenly in a human voice, a cry of pain and terror.
“I’ll take care of him,” said Conrad grimly.
“No,” said Duncan. “For the moment, leave him be.”
“Werewolves,” spat Conrad. “They’re only good for killing.”
“There is something I have to find out,” said Duncan. “There were a lot of them. Only a few of them attacked. The others hung back. If they had all come in…”
“Someone called them back,” said Conrad.
“No, it wasn’t that. Not that alone. There was something else.”