Paul Kemp - Realms of War

One of the Oigur started for another horse, but he stopped after two steps. Gethred followed his gaze to the fallen rider. Blood drenched the man from the waist down, and liberal amounts of it streaked him above that. The man clutched his midsection, and Gethred saw something pale between the man's fingers. The man was using one hand to hold in his own entrails.

Holwan opened his mouth to speak, but a voice from the near distance cut him off. It spoke in Rashemi.

"Horse lovers! You attacked Vurzhad's home and robbed him of his robber! Leave the wretch by your dead fires, ride away, and the rest of you will live long enough to return to your mongrel horde!"

Gethred recognized the voice as the massive man whose trap he had robbed and who had taken him captive and threatened to geld him. He couldn't tell how far away the man was, but he sounded close.

One of the Oigur whispered something harshly in his own tongue, and the Tuigan made for the horses.

Gethred followed. He looked to Holwan and said, "I take it that you aren't accepting his offer?"

"Stay close," said Holwan.

"You don't have t-"

One of the Oigur nearing the horses jerked and flew through the air. He slid through the snow and came to a rest near Gethred's feet. A spear protruded from his chest. The light was still not strong enough to be certain, but Gethred thought he could see runes burned into the haft of the spear.

Gethred heard something whisper through the air, then another Oigur fell, a massive-and familiar-dagger lodged in his throat.

The horses screamed and pulled at their picket lines. Someone shouted, and Gethred looked to the lip of the gully. A shape stood silhouetted against the lightening eastern sky. A massive form that blotted out the fading stars.

Gethred heard the twang of bows-one of them Holwan's-but Vurzhad simply waved a hand, and three arrows shattered in the air before him.

The massive man stood looking down on them and said, "Now you have my spear and dagger as well as my robber. Leave them and those of you still breathing can go. This is my last mercy."

Gethred saw two of the Tuigan warriors reaching for another arrow, but beside him Holwan took his free hand and reached inside his kalat. Something hung on a leather braid around the Khassidi's neck, and he held it aloft. In the gloom of predawn Gethred thought he could see a twisted mass of bone, twigs, and either feather or tufts of fur.

Above them, Vurzhad snarled. "You caught me by surprise earlier," he said. "Before my own home you bested me, little shaman, because I was not ready for you. I am ready now."

Vurzhad's deep voice dropped even further, and he spoke words that even Gethred's untrained ears recognized as arcane. The man threw his head back, and his form seemed to ripple and twist and grow all at the same time. Even as the other Tuigan drew their arrows to their cheeks, Vurzhad transformed into a huge bear.

The Tuigan released their bowstrings. Their arrows struck the gigantic bear, but it did not even slow. The bear dropped to all fours and leaped into the gully, an avalanche of fur and claws that shook the ground beneath Gethred's feet.

Terrified, the Tuigans' horses reared and broke their picket lines. They jostled, bumping into one another in their haste to be away, then scattered in all directions. One of the Tuigan warriors tried to jump aside, but he was too late and the horse trampled him into the snow.

Holwan was quicker. He lunged as the horse shot past him. Throwing his bow aside, the Khassidi latched onto the horse's long mane and pulled himself into the saddle. He grabbed the reins and pulled the fighting horse around.

Another arrow stuck in the bear's side, but still it came on. It slowed long enough to swipe one of the Tuigans to the ground. Gethred winced at the sound of ripping leather and breaking bone, then a horse was thundering up on him. He looked up in time to see Holwan leaning down from the saddle, one arm reaching down.

Without thinking Gethred grabbed Holwan's arm, pulled himself onto the horse's rump behind the saddle, and they were off, leaving the camp behind and following the course of the gully.

Holwan let the horse have its lead for the first few twists of the gully, then he forced it up a shallow incline back onto the open steppe. As they crested the rise, Gethred shouted, "What about the others?"

"The shu t'met comes for you," said Holwan. "He will follow. Pray for us, not my brothers." Gethred did.

Tuigan horses are not large. In fact, most people west of the Sunrise Mountains called them ponies, though Gethred knew that was a misconception. Shorter than western horses the Tuigan mounts were, but they were also heartier and more suited to life in the Hordelands. Still, hearty as they were, the beast was not suited to bearing two riders at full gallop for long, and before they had made it past two shallow hills, Gethred could hear the ragged edge to their mount's breathing.

Still, the horse's terror lent it strength, and Holwan drove the beast hard.

Gethred risked a glance back. The eastern sky was a glow shy;ing pale curtain, and the only stars still visible rode the top of the Sunrise Mountains to their right. The lightening sky shone brightly off the snowfields, and what Gethred saw lurched his stomach into a tight knot.

Their mount left a wake of flying snow behind them, but another cloud-much larger than the one they made-erupted from the snow behind them. Before it was a massive, dark shape. The bear. And it was gaining on them.

"Holwan, faster!" Gethred screamed.

The Khassidi kicked the horse's flanks, and it managed another burst of speed. Hope lit in Gethred's heart, and he looked over his shoulder-

— in time to see a claw as large as a pikeman's shield swiping at the horse's hind legs.

He opened his mouth to scream, but the horse's shriek cut him off, and both Holwan and his mount crashed beneath him. They went down in a great cloud of frost.

Gethred slid-on ice at first, but the force of his fall ground him through weeks' worth of snow, and soon his face scraped soil and rock.

Struggling to force air back into his bruised chest, Gethred forced himself to his feet. He coughed and spat, hoping to rid his mouth and throat of snow and dirt, but a fair amount of blood and at least two teeth came out with them. He scraped the snow and mud from his face and looked up.

The bear had the horse's neck in its jaws. The poor creature was kicking and screaming. The bear threw its head up and to the side, the horse's neck broke with a snap, and the pitiful scream stopped.

The bear dropped the carcass into the snow and turned its attention to Gethred. Its face was incapable of smiling, of course, but Gethred could see the all-too-human look of gleeful malice in its eyes.

A tottering form stepped forward from behind Gethred: Holwan. The man held a knife in one hand, but in the other he held his holy symbol high. Gethred could hear the Khassidi chanting something in his own language. Gethred couldn't understand a word of it, but he could hear the fear in the man's tone.

Fury lit the bear's eyes, and it growled low and deep, like tumbling river stones. It approached, but pain tinged the fury in its gaze. The bear did not like whatever Holwan was doing. Still it advanced, snarling. It came in slowly, each step forced and deliberate. Soon it would be in striking distance.

"Holwan-?" said Gethred, and he took a step back.

The bear lunged. One paw raked out-Gethred felt the wind of its passage-and Holwan went down.

A shudder shook the bear, and it returned its attention to Gethred. He could feel its growl shaking the earth beneath his feet.

But then something else-

Above the bear's growl, coming down from the hill behind them, was the howling of wolves. Many wolves.