Rose Estes - Master Wolf

But Mika was seized with doubt and indecision. Had he heard the kobold leader correctly? So frightening was the thought of Iuz, drummed into his imagination from childhood and the lessons of his father, that he was more than willing to believe that his ears had tricked him, or that the kobold had lied. Enor was equally willing to forget the implications.

"Come, Mika, pay this one no more mind," directed Enor, pulling him away from the dead kobold. "We must tend to the living and eliminate those few of the enemy that may have survived."

Mika rejoined his companions, and they combed the battlefield carefully, aided by the wolves and tigers, searching out those humans and kobolds that still lived. They found only one suffering human, a wagon driver, who soon perished of his wounds, although grateful to die in the presence of men and with the sound of prayers in his ears to guide his spirit to the afterworld.

Many kobolds had survived, although bearing horrendous wounds that would have killed a man. They taunted the Wolf Nomads with curses and animal cries and died with smiles on their muzzles as the Wolf Men plunged swords through their hearts.

Mika was troubled by a lingering doubt, and whenever possible, out of the hearing of other nomads, he tried to question all kobolds who came before his sword. He also searched their foul-smelling clothing for documents, but they were either without knowledge or without fear and gave up nothing except their worthless lives.

"Leave them here as a warning to their foul brethren," Enor directed his clansmen as the sun rose slowly in the cold sky. "Perhaps it will give them reason to think before they attack another caravan. We have given the Guild our word of protection. Wolf Nomads do not make promises that they cannot keep."

"They will remember the lesson we have taught them today," Enor-oba said pompously, and Mika was saddened to see that the chief's son had come through the battle without even a scratch.

"To attack a caravan under the protection of the Wolf Nomads is to attack the Wolf Nomads themselves…" Enor-oba continued as the men began to drift away, disinterested in his somber pronouncements. Even Enor turned from his son and began directing the removal of the last few wagons across the river and into the safety of the Wolf Nomad territory.

"You men," called Enor, pointing at the widely scattered groups of nomads. "Check the area. I want to be certain that every last kobold is dead before we leave."

Mika was tired. His arms ached and his back was stiff and caked with sweat. All he wanted was to sit down and rest. He didn't want to look for kobolds. He had seen more than enough kobolds to last him for a long time.

But he knew from long experience that it was no use arguing with Enor. "I'll check the arroyos," he cried, and received a brief wave of acknowledgement from Enor, whose attention was focused on the work with the wagons.

The rest of the men were searching the area between the arroyos and the river. No one was near him. Satisfied that he had the area to himself, Mika slipped over the edge of an arroyo and wandered along its length, searching wearily for a concealed spot in which to sit and rest.

Such a spot soon presented itself, a small cut in the bank near the head of an arroyo where he was hidden from casual observation. He sank down on a large boulder, rested his back against the steep slope and closed his eyes with a hearty sigh.

TamTur circled in place several times, then sank to the ground, curled himself into a tight ball, his silvery brush covering his nose, and fell into a deep sleep.

Mika relaxed in the warm sunlight, allowing the tension to flow out of his stiff muscles, and congratulated himself on surviving the battle, despite the shove from… Enor-oba, no doubt.

His thoughts drifted, considering the wagon train. It had appeared quite ordinary, no different from any other caravan, and certainly not the repository of a beautiful princess and great wealth. Ah, the princess! He had almost forgotten about her. Had the messenger lied? Was it all an elaborate hoax to ensure the rescue of his comrades? Mika thought not, but he would have to get a closer look at the surviving wagons… after a brief, well-deserved snooze.

Mika had been seated for only a short time, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face and chest, when he felt a strange tingling cover his body. He opened his eyes abruptly.

A small kobold stood directly in front of him, blocking the rays of the sun. Mika cursed his own stupidity for placing himself in such a tightly wedged position where he could not easily wield either axe or sword.

They stared at each other for a long moment, each studying the other. The kobold wore a badly singed orange tunic and its bony crest sagged crookedly above its eyes as though it had been broken by a direct blow. Then, even as Mika considered rushing the creature, overwhelming it by sheer bulk, a second figure appeared in the narrow opening.

Mika-oba could not tell whether the creature standing against the sun was human or not, draped as it was in a heavy dark cloak from head to toe, its features completely concealed by deep, unnatural shadows. The kobold lifted its wrinkled muzzle and spoke to the figure that stood a mere hand span taller.

The kobold seemed to speak with great deference, and its cringing posture suggested fear.

The small dark figure leaned on a thick staff and stared at Mika without movement.

After a few moments of the silent staring, Mika grew increasingly uneasy. There was something quite frightening about the small figure that filled Mika with a sense of dread. He backed up, but there was nowhere to go. The silence stretched on like an unending scream.

Mika shook himself mentally, attempting to shake off his unreasoning anxiety. What was he afraid of? The Wolf Nomads had won, hadn't they? He raised his arm and started to draw his sword out of the sheath that hung between his shoulder blades, taking a step toward the odd pair.

He flexed his massive shoulders-intimidatingly, he hoped-and rattled his sword. He took another step, hoping they would back off, but the twosome stood their ground firmly as Mika-oba approached. His blade snicked through the air, making a most satisfying sound, rather like the sound of a neck separating from a head, Mika thought with a rush of humor. Yet still the pair did not flee. It was definitely unkobold-like behavior. But when he noticed the kobold shrinking back in a most satisfying manner, he drew in a great mouthful of air for his attacking wolf cry, and rushed forward, sword raised high.

Slowly, almost leisurely, the small, dark figure raised a shrouded hand and pointed at Mika, the tip of its cloak and the bountiful folds describing lazy movements in the air.

Mika felt as though he had slammed face first into a pile of sand. The faint tingling he had felt earlier had been but a hint of what he experienced now.

His entire body was wrapped in a numbing cold. Yet he felt as though he were being stung by bees from the top of his scalp down to the soles of his feet.

His heart slammed against his ribcage like a hawk caught in a cage, hurling itself against the bars, determined to escape or die in the trying.

His blood roared in his ears and pressure built behind his eyes till his vision blurred and he could sense only vaguely the kobold and the dark creature approaching him as he stood frozen in place, sword still raised above his head.

"Should I kill 'im, Master?" the kobold asked nervously.

Mika felt sweat pouring down his face, and he strained every muscle in his body, attempting to lower his arms and crash the sword into his enemy. But he could not move his arms. In fact, he could not move anything at all. All he could do was stand there, frozen, and wait for the dark creature to decide his fate.