for a weakness. Braldt feinted left and the lupebeast
countered, malevolent intelligence glinting in its eyes. It almost seemed as though the animal was laughing at him, toying
with him before the audience of others who had not joined the fray but lay watching from a ledge like spectators at the games.
The lupebeast darted forward and slashed at Braldt’s leg. Braldt sliced downward, but the beast was already gone, circling
behind him and then dashing in to rip at the other leg before trotting away contemptuously with its back to him as though
he offered no danger at all. Braldt felt the blood pouring down his legs, the pain burning hot along the edges. He knew that
this battle could not be won by strength or power, but by cunning.
Crying aloud as though he had been grievously wounded, Braldt allowed the dagger to clatter to the ground and then, clutching
his leg, curled up in a pathetic fetal bundle, whimpering and whining in pain.
The lupebeast circled suspiciously, sniffing the air as though sniffing out his intent for surely it had known that he was
not seriously injured. Closer and closer it came, head extended, sniffing at him, almost touching him and then retreating
to stare in puzzlement. Braldt shrieked loudly each time the beast drew near and made no move to reach for his dagger that
lay in plain view. This at last seemed to convince the lupebeast. It gathered itself and sprang forward, striking Braldt full
force. But Braldt was prepared this time and rolled onto his back, stabbing upward with hissword, stabbing upward with all his might between the legs of the beast, grim satisfaction filling his heart as he felt the
blade pierce the thick sternum and penetrate the hard, fibrous muscle of the heart itself.
Hideous shrieks erupted from the mouth of the beast as it flung itself backward in agony, its efforts serving only to impale
itself farther on the blade. Mortally wounded, it slavered and bit at its body, rending its own flesh in an attempt to rid
itself of the offending blade. Hot blood pulsed down upon Braldt with every beat of the dying heart, and he held the sword
with grim pleasure, savoring each convulsion and utterance of pain, unaware that his lips were drawn back, bared in a grimace
of a smile.
And then it was done, with a final tormented shudder. The beast hung heavy and unmoving on the blade. Braldt flung it from
him and scrambled to his feet, scooping the dagger from the ground, ready for the others that would surely come now. Blood
poured down his body, drenching his robes, blood of the lupebeast and blood of his own from a score of long furrows inflicted
by the dying creature’s claws. His legs shook with tremors of nervous shock as his body reacted to the great surge of adrenaline
that had carried him through the initial attack. He fought it off, waving the blade before him, waiting for the next attack,
wondering whether they would come at him one at a time or all in a rush. They did neither. The green eyes still glowed from
the ledge, but now there were nervous blinks as well as low whines of uncertainty.
There was something odd about the sound. Blade outstretched cautiously before him, Braldt approached the ledge. In the dim
light that filtered in through the cracks, he saw what he had not seen before, the five sets of glowing eyes belonged to a
litter of pups, lupebeast pups. As he advanced toward them they began to whimper and whine, shifting nervously from paw to
paw, sensing that something was amiss.
He dispatched four of the cubs swiftly, avoiding their snarling, snapping jaws, which, despite their young age, were still
capable of inflicting painful bites. But the fifthpup made no effort to avoid him and stared up into his eyes calmly with quiet resolve. It would not follow its littermates
into death crying and cringing. With the courage of a warrior it held its eyes even with his own as he raised his weapon and
brought it down