“I see my champion before me,” Cyric said, crossing his arms. “But he is not the champion I remember. Where is Redclaw? Did you kill him?”
“Redclaw was weak,” Warfang said. “He denied you, and had those who are afraid, those who are like toothless pups, flee back to the Wedge. Yes, I killed him.”
Warfang thought such words would elicit anger from the priest, but instead he remained calm. If anything, he looked curious.
“He denied me?” asked Cyric. “Do you know why?”
“Redclaw was stupid and weak. Why does it matter?”
“I asked,” Cyric said. “Therefore it matters. I would know where Redclaw failed, so I might know if I should fear the same failure from you.”
The very idea insulted Warfang, and he had to struggle to prevent it from showing.
“Redclaw lost what it meant to be wolf,” he said. “He never understood. He was strong, he was smart, but he was also fearful. To kill, to tear into life with our claws and taste blood on our tongue…that is what we are. That is what we were made for. Redclaw dreamt of kingdoms, of packs and families and cubs. He dreamt a lie. You give us power, and tell us to kill. You are the true god we have always served.”
“Are you stronger than Redclaw?”
“I have not forgotten my bloodlust. I have not lost my love of killing. I will use your power far better than Redclaw ever could, for I am who it was always meant for. Give me prey, my god, and I will serve.”
At last Cyric smiled.
“Prey,” he said. “We do not chase after rabbits, Warfang. We chase after the most dangerous prey imaginable. We chase after men of faith and men in service of money. They wear expensive armor and wield weapons of light and shadow. Can you face them, even after being defeated once?”
Warfang let out a roar, and its thunderous noise awakened the rest of his pack. The second one was taken up by them, and their howls echoed throughout the hills, across the river, and into the Wedge beyond.
“We were led by a coward,” he snarled. “But I do not know fear. I will not be beaten.”
“No,” Cyric said. “You will not. My dead are ready to march. Prepare your pack, but do not let them eat. I want them hungry. Today the faithless of my order will meet their god, and at last they will open their eyes…or they will fall to your claws.”
Warfang lowered his head, and at Cyric’s dismissal he stormed through his pack, nipping and snarling to get his fellow wolf-men ready.
“Up, up,” he cried to them. “This day, under this sun, we will feast!”
23
Jerico looked up from his prayer, felt the warm touch of the morning sun on his face, and smiled.
“Amen,” he whispered, standing. Sleep had not come, but he’d passed the final hour in prayer, and now come the light he knew at last he would face Cyric. He didn’t know if they’d stop him. He didn’t know if he’d live. But Jerico always preferred his challenges before him instead of looming on the horizon.
And since the sun was up, it was finally time to move. But first…
“Where is Valessa?” he asked Darius when he found him. Darius looked up from his breakfast and frowned.
“She’s frightened of Luther,” he said. “Cyric was nearly able to kill her with a thought. I think she fears he will do the same.”
Jerico’s brow furrowed.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “We are no more loved by Luther than she is, yet we are safe.”
“Aye,” he said. “And look at how safe we are.”
Jerico could see he was troubled, and he sat down, unwilling to let it go.
“What is it really?” he asked. “What’s bothering you so?”
Darius put aside his bowl.
“Luther doesn’t know she even exists yet. She said now is the time for her to flee. She could go and make a life, without fear of the priesthood hunting her down.”
“Like they hunt us,” Jerico said. “Don’t be upset with her, Darius. We walk among lions. I don’t blame her for not wanting to be eaten.”
Darius chuckled.
“I don’t blame her. I just thought she’d stay with me, regardless the demons, the lions, and the mad priests. But I have a feeling she’ll be watching. Perhaps she knows better what is going on than we do.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it. Finish up, then come with me. Right now, Luther’s the only one keeping us safe, so we might as well find out where he wants us.”
Luther ordered that he and Darius march at his side, to both of their surprise. When they joined him, they received many dreadful looks from the other priests and paladins, who slowly dispersed among the mercenaries ahead.