XLIII

just after sunset as Ashera was helping Red Wolf into his armour, washing the blood from the streets and cooling the weather somewhat. They had agreed to battle on the drawbridge. He knew the wood had poor traction in the rain and wouldn’t be made any better by steel plate, so he’d taken his plate and mail and left the armoured legwear in favour of his usual guard’s boots, knowing the worn soles had better traction. If he knew the Hellhounds at all, they would be unaccustomed to fighting in such slippery conditions.

“You’re sure you don’t want some armour for your legs?” Talin asked, as Ashera finished tightening the straps on his chest plate.

“Metal has no traction on that drawbridge. If I fall, I need to be able to get back up.” He took his helmet from the girl and put it on.

“I’m surprised you decided to take the armour at all,” Talin said.

“Well.” Red Wolf shrugged.

Now is as a good a time as any to admit the truth.

“I won’t be able to heal,” he said. “The Hellhounds have their mages. They can manipulate their connection to the moon’s magic, temporarily cutting us off completely. It’s…tradition for such a thing to occur before duels to test the Hellhounds’ raw skill in combat. I won’t have my powers, and neither will their champion.”

“Then, you…” Understanding flickered across Talin’s face. “You lied. Before. I could have sent Golmin or Ettrias.”

“I’m sorry,” Red Wolf said. “But as I said, I’ve trained with the Hellhounds, with Kehlvor. I know how they fight. That should give me an edge—hopefully.”

Ashera passed him his weapons belt, and he tightened it over his armour. It’s time.

“You’ll want to stay on the wall, my queen,” he said. “It will be safer there—if I do happen to lose.”

“You said you won’t.” Talin fell into step beside him as he made his way to the front gates. She was limping again now that Corvan’s potion had worn off, and he slowed to match her pace.

“Well, you never know. Anything could happen,” he said.

“You should have let me send Golmin.”

“He will lose. I might not.”

“You cannot lose.”

“I’ll certainly make an effort not to,” he said with a half-hearted grin, trying to lighten the situation. Talin didn’t look any happier about it. They stopped at the front gates, and two guards pulled them open.

Facing him in the middle of the drawbridge was none other than General Kehlvor.

The man looked much the same as when they’d last met at Castle Blackrun, sporting shoulder-length black hair tied back in a bun and a trimmed beard. He carried a heavy, ornate-looking helm in his hand and was fitted with mail and as much plate as the Torrian heat allowed.

Of course it had to be him.

One of his mages stood beside him, staff in hand, its tip glowing faintly with a purple light. Kehlvor’s gaze landed on the bodyguard, and he rumbled out a laugh.

Red Wolf pushed down a surge of anger.

“Red Wolf.” Talin grabbed his elbow before he could step out. He looked back at her. “Don’t let your anger get the better of you. Fight to protect what you love, not to destroy what you hate.”

“As you say.” Red Wolf lowered his visor and strode forwards.

“The Traitor finally returns to his pack,” Kehlvor said, motioning to his mage to begin the spell. Red Wolf felt his connection to the moon dim and fade completely.

“I never belonged in your pack. Not when your only goal was to use me as a weapon.”

“You think you’ve found a sense of belonging here?” Kehlvor asked as the two circled each other slowly. “In Belanore, where the common folk shun your very existence? Serving a weakling queen who sends out a champion, a weapon, in her stead, instead of facing me herself?”

Red Wolf let out a soft growl and bared his teeth. “You know nothing about my queen. I serve out of loyalty, not slavery.”

“Loyalty.” Kehlvor lowered his helm over his head with a scoff. “Did your so-called loyalty apply when you betrayed the horde? Your pack? Your brothers?”

“I am not your brother.”

“You are, and have always been, my brother.”

Red Wolf heard a yell rip from his own throat as he lunged forward.

Kehlvor sidestepped his wild swing and spun around with a counter, forcing him back. Red Wolf parried the next hit and aimed a jab at his opponent’s shoulder, aiming for a gap in his armour. Kehlvor knocked it aside easily and stepped forward. Red Wolf backed up again to keep the distance.

“It’s not too late, you know!” Kehlvor yelled as the storm picked up, almost drowning out his words. “Swear your allegiance once more to me. Return to your brothers.”

“My allegiance is to Queen Talin.” Red Wolf came forward with another wild swing, hardly caring about technique and footwork, and Kehlvor quickly stepped around him to slash his shoulder. He hissed at the pain and pressed his attack again, backing the man up as he did with most of his opponents in training.

“Sloppy.” Kehlvor parried and countered without skipping a beat. Blood splashed onto the drawbridge and was immediately washed away by the pouring rain.

Red Wolf ducked under his next strike. A pommel slam to the front of his opponent’s helm had the man staggering back, dazed. He followed through with a thrust that glanced off the steel plate instead when the Hellhound general twisted aside. Red Wolf raised his blade to parry a strike from above.

He recognised the feint too late.

His parry met empty air as the general’s blade came swinging in from the bottom, slashing at his exposed leg. He staggered with a curse. More blood dripped onto the drawbridge to be washed away by the rain. Standing again, he pressed his attack, ignoring the burning pain as rainwater splashed onto the cut. A memory flashed in his mind of pure, unbridled rage as he fought against leather restraints. He tried to push it down.

Red Wolf made a low growl in the back of his throat. He had closed the distance. Kehlvor stepped back too late. He stepped around the man and locked out his sword arm, driving his elbow into the back of his shoulder. There was a crunch as the joint dislocated. His opponent let out a hiss of pain and switched hands.

He used to fight you with his left hand, just to mock your skill.

Red Wolf ducked under a swing and slammed his shoulder against the general’s chest, sending him staggering back. Kehlvor recovered just in time to parry and counter a strike that would have pierced through the shoulder gap in his armour.

The riposte that followed tore clean into Red Wolf’s thigh and dropped him for good this time. He fell to one knee with a groan. Kehlvor finished with a kick to the face that sent him sprawling onto his back on the sodden drawbridge.

“You didn’t really think you had a chance against me, did you?” The general kicked his sword out of reach and planted a boot on his wounded leg, forcing a roar of pain from his lips. “Living with elves has made you soft.”

Red Wolf cursed himself for being so naïve. Talin had warned him before the duel even started not to let his rage get the better of him. And yet he had allowed General Kehlvor to goad him into doing exactly that.

I’m going to die here, and Belanore will fall.

“Look up, there is your queen,” Kehlvor said. Red Wolf looked up at the wall and saw Talin standing there, huddled in a cloak, watching them. He lay back on the drawbridge and stared at the falling rain. Blood pooled under his wounded leg, mixing with the rainwater and turning it red.

“If I have to die for her, so be it,” he said.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? An honourable death. Loyal to the end.” The general laughed. “I’m not going to kill you. Not right now.”

Red Wolf glared at him. “Why?”

“Because, at the end of the day, we are brothers, try as you might to deny it.” Kehlvor straightened. “I will spare you tonight. You have always been my alchemists’ greatest achievement. We will give you until first light to prepare a final stand, and when dawn breaks across the eastern horizon, I pray that your death will be painless. Goodbye, Red Wolf.”

In too much pain to stand, Red Wolf lay there instead, watching his blood swirl in the rainwater and drip down into the moat. He heard the gates opening a few minutes later and boots splashing in the rain as someone ran out. Ashera’s face loomed into view.

“Can you walk?” she asked.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” Red Wolf waved her off. He heard two more sets of footsteps. Golmin and Ettrias, no doubt.

“We need to get you to Corvan before you bleed to death on the drawbridge,” the captain said.

“I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” He squeezed his eyes shut. Talin caught up to the others not long after.

“Red Wolf?”

“Evening, Talin.”

“Get him up. We need to find Corvan,” Talin said.

“No, wait, I can…” Red Wolf cursed as Ettrias and Golmin dragged him to his feet and ducked under his arms to support his weight. Together, they managed to stumble inside, with Ashera carrying his abandoned helm and sword. He wriggled free and made his own way upstairs. Inside the throne room, he finally fell to one knee, and Corvan quickly found a spare bed for him to lie on. He swung his legs onto it and propped himself up against the wall instead, and Ashera helped him strip his armour off so the old man could tend to his injuries.

“Superficial cuts, mostly,” the healer said. “Apart from the stab wound to your leg. That will require stitches to stop the bleeding until your powers return. My potions will not have any effect on you either, so you will have to keep still.”

“Whatever you think is best, old man.” Red Wolf leaned back against the wall to let him do his work.

“Are you injured anywhere else?” Talin asked.

“No, I’m fine. I’m sorry. I should have…listened to you. I let Kehlvor provoke me. Fought like an…angry child.”

“He let you live—that’s all I care about.”

“So that I can watch as the Hellhounds tear through the palace thanks to my failure. It wasn’t really an act of mercy on his part.” Red Wolf closed his eyes. “You were wrong. I can’t control that rage. He called me his brother and I just…”

“That doesn’t matter now. We’ll evacuate who we can and try to defend that last tunnel. When the Hellhounds break through…”

“We won’t let them.” Red Wolf opened his eyes again and looked at her. “We hold the gate for as long as possible.”

“I only wish we could have returned from the Drakels with an army. Perhaps then we might have been more evenly matched in this siege.”

“We will make do with the numbers we have. If Belanore falls, so too does this kingdom.”

“I’m aware.” Talin sighed. “I wish I wasn’t the one shouldering the burden of this war. My father would have known what to do.”

“Everything he knew, he taught to you. You have gotten us all this far. You will think of something.”

“We don’t have the numbers…” Talin’s voice trailed off. “Maybe we could.”

“I’m listening,” Red Wolf said.

“If we can arm the civilians with weapons, that’s…what? Thousands more swords to fight against the Hellhounds when they break through,” Talin said. She turned to her brother. “I need you to gather up any civilians willing to fight. No children. Golmin, how many spare weapons do we have?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure Brakis does,” Golmin said.

Talin nodded. “Find the quartermaster. Have him bring as many weapons as he can find.” She looked at Red Wolf, who smiled.

You always think of something, Talin. I told you.

“Kehlvor has given us until morning,” he said. “We should get moving. Corvan…”

“Yes, let me just finish up,” the old healer said. He tied the bandage around Red Wolf’s leg and wiped his hands on a towel. “There. You will be fine as long as you don’t run around too much.”

Red Wolf swung his legs off the bed and stood. “Excellent. Let’s get to work.”