Vulcan's Fury: The Dark Lands (12 page)

The animals surrounding the girl attacked. Unable to help himself, drawn by worry for his human cub, Hercules snapped his head around in their direction.

It was a mistake. The enemy alpha darted forward, intent on clamping his jaws around Hercules’s throat. Hercules dodged just enough that the beast missed his intended target, and instead raked his teeth across Hercules’s shoulder. Hercules grunted in shock at the unaccustomed sensation of pain, but instead of pulling away, he lunged toward the alpha, his own jaws wide, his white incisors gleaming. The alpha let out a startled yip as Hercules snatched him by the neck.
 

As Hercules was about to savor his victory, the other beasts surrounding him attacked. They came at him as one, yipping and growling, jaws open wide. Some went low, attacking his legs, while others leaped high and sank their teeth into his shoulders and flanks. Hercules cried out in surprise and agony as the enemy drew blood, and their combined weight drove him to the ground where they began to savage him, seeking out the thin hide of his underbelly and throat.

He writhed like a prey animal, his mind shrouded in a fog of searing pain when the cry of a single human voice cut through the bedlam of the battlefield and the snarls of the beasts that sought to kill him.
 

“
Hercules!
”

The girl. She had been the center of his life for as long as he could remember. She had been his companion, his caregiver, and the one for whom he had cared. Sooner would he see the end of himself than see any harm come to her. The most powerful of the ancient imperatives came into play.
Defend
.
Protect
. The pain that had brought him low was overwhelmed by a fiery rage that he had never before felt.

He still held the struggling alpha in his teeth. With a savage growl he clamped shut his jaws, and the alpha let out a brief, tortured squeal as its bones snapped and blood gushed from severed arteries. Tossing the dead beast aside, Hercules rolled to his feet and shook his great body as if he had just come in from the rain, throwing several of the beasts clear. Ignoring the pain of the punctures and gashes they left in his hide, he whipped his body to and fro, freeing himself of the remaining beasts still clinging to him.

The predators had now become prey. In a frenzy of slashing claws and teeth, now using his tremendous size and power to its full advantage, he tore through his opponents. A swipe of one of his huge claws sent a pair of the dark wolves flying, the ribs of one shattered, the rear leg of the other breaking in three places as it slammed into the ground. Whipping his head around, his jaws found the head of a beast trying to attack his left flank. With a brief, brutal contraction of his jaw muscles, Hercules crushed its skull in a spray of blood before hurling it away, the body slamming into a trio of its companions. Spinning around, he seized another beast across its back, and it squealed in agony as he crushed its spine. One of the beasts had the temerity to bite his tail. Whirling in a raging fury, Hercules snatched the beast by its throat, and with a single brutal shake of his jaws ripped it away. With blood fountaining from the wound, the beast let go and fell to the ground to die.

With a roar of victory, Hercules charged into the mass of creatures that were attacking the one so dear to him.
 

***

In all his years serving in the Army, through all the battles he had fought and the horrors he had seen, above all the terrible things he himself had been called upon to do as part of his duty, Marcus Tullius now faced the hardest thing he had ever done: to command Valeria to leave him, to put her life in the hands of a complete stranger. The Ghost had appeared before them as if he had been summoned from thin air by the gods. And perhaps, Marcus thought, he had been, for only the gods could save her now. Grimacing from the pain of his wounds, he looked from the Ghost to Valeria. “He may be your only chance now, girl,” Marcus told her quickly. “In the name of your father, do as I command.
Go!
”

With one last gaze upon her terrified face, he turned away as three beasts crashed through what was left of the shield wall, knocking several men to the ground. One of the beasts leaped at a soldier and would have clamped its jaws on the poor man’s face had not Marcus wrapped his left arm about the thing’s neck. Forcing it to the ground, where it writhed and snapped at him, he rammed his sword through its ribs, piercing its heart.
 

But there was no time to savor the small victory. With a quick glance to make sure Valeria and young Paulus were away, trailing behind the enigmatic Ghost, he turned to the task of rescuing Septimus and Pelonius, who were both pinned by a huge dark wolf nearly the size of the alpha that Hercules had taken in his jaws before he himself had been dragged down. With sword in one hand and dagger in the other, Marcus stabbed the beast in the meat of its shoulder with the dagger. Growling more in rage than pain, it lifted its jaws to snap at him. He blocked the teeth by turning his sword sideways, and began to saw away at the hinge of the beast’s jaw. It squealed and tried to get away, but by that time Pelonius and Septimus had enough leverage to use their swords to good effect. The beast cried out, then toppled as the tips of their swords stabbed deep into its vitals.

“Back to back!” Marcus shouted, his voice hoarse, as he struggled to his feet. “Move!”

The surviving soldiers of the guard, no more than a handful now, did as he ordered, forming a small circle that faced outward.
 

“Valeria?” Pelonius asked. From his agonized tone, Marcus knew that he expected to hear the worst.
 

“Her Ghost came for her,” Marcus told him. “They are away. Safe, I hope.”

“He’s real?” Septimus asked.

Marcus nodded. “As much as any of us are.”

“May the gods protect her,” Pelonius whispered.

“May the gods protect
us
,” Septimus countered before spitting blood on the ground.
 

As if the deities had heard his words, Hercules arose from the tide of dark wolves that had dragged him under like Neptune rising from a tumultuous sea. The men could hear the bones of the alpha crunch in the hexatiger’s jaws before Hercules hurled the carcass away. Then, in a furious killing orgy that would have been a spectacle for all the ages, making the huge cat an undying hero of the mob had it taken place in the great Colosseum, Hercules laid waste to his tormentors.
 

But the attention of the men was drawn to the sound of more growls and yips as another group of dark wolves fell upon them.
 

Marcus was flattened to the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs, as a beast charged straight into him. Another soldier beside him went down and screamed as a beast grabbed one of his legs in its jaws and dragged him away, his hands making furrows in the blood soaked ground. Marcus reached for him, taking hold of one of his wrists, and the man screamed louder as the beast bit down on his leg. Then, with a single ferocious tug from the dark wolf, he was gone.

Cursing, Marcus got back to his feet in time to have another wolf leap at his face. He blocked the attack with his left arm, screaming in pain as the beast bit into the unprotected flesh. He screamed again, in fury, as he drove his sword upward through its throat, burying the tip in its brain. With a single, brief squeal, it collapsed to the ground, dead. Cursing, he tore his arm from the grip of its jaws before extracting his sword.

Two more men went down, then a third, and Marcus shouted at Pelonius, warning him of a pair of wolves attacking from behind him. Marcus was too far away to use his sword, so he stabbed it into the ground before snatching up a spear from a fallen soldier. He hurled the weapon, which took one of the wolves in the shoulder. In one of the many small ironies of battle, it darted toward him, yipping in pain. Yanking his sword from the ground, Marcus swung it down across the beast’s neck, severing its spine.

Pelonius turned at Marcus’s warning, but it was too late. The second dark wolf was already in the air, its jaws open, aimed at the old scribe’s neck.

Pelonius let out a shout of surprise as an arrow took the thing in the neck where the main artery pulsed. The dark wolf crashed to the ground, unconscious, as it quickly bled to death.
 

Another beast went down, victim to an arrow through the spine, and a third, with one through its heart. Then the Ghost was there, driving into the attacking beasts with a long flashing blade in his right hand, the bow still in his left. Marcus had never seen the like, even among gladiators. His men, too, were transfixed by the sight. “Get up, you fools!” Marcus shouted as he brandished his sword above his head. “We’re not done yet!”

The Ghost’s appearance had a rallying effect, and the men took up positions beside and behind him, blocking with their shields and stabbing and slashing with their swords. More men gathered around them, expanding and deepening their defense.
 

In the meantime, Hercules had smashed into the mass of beasts savaging the heart of the legion, or what was left of it, like a squadron of cavalry charging into defenseless barbarians. The wolves turned and fought, but Hercules’s fury would not be denied. Dozens of dark wolves were reduced to bloody meat and glistening bone before his teeth and claws as the big cat pressed home his attack.

Just as he had many times before on the field of battle against other men, Marcus saw the moment when the will of their enemy collapsed. Even though the wolves still outnumbered the hexatiger, probably by hundreds to one, Hercules had made a clear and bloody demonstration of his dominance, and the dark wolves no longer had their alpha to spur them on. As if a candle had been snuffed out, their will to fight vanished. They bolted from the field, retreating toward the trees.

Hercules, his orange and black pelt streaked with crimson from his own wounds and the blood of his enemies, faced his fleeing opponents and roared one last time. Then he shook himself, flinging drops of blood and bits of gore like rain upon the men around him before turning to slowly limp back to Marcus and the others. The survivors of the legion gave up a heartfelt cheer, shouting the hexatiger’s name over and over.

The big cat came to Marcus, whose eyes were tearing up as much from the giddiness of unexpected survival as from pain. Nuzzling the centurion with his nose, Hercules mewled unhappily, his big orange eyes looking around them.

“She’s not here, boy,” Marcus whispered as he reached up and stroked the hexatiger below the chin. “Septimus,” he said.

“Here.”
 

Septimus was covered in blood, as he always was after a battle, but it never seemed to be his. Today was no exception. Marcus couldn’t help but grin at his old companion’s luck. Aside from a split lip, his friend hadn’t received so much as a scratch. “Let’s find the princess and the boy, shall we?”

“Where’s the Ghost?” Septimus asked, looking around them. “He was right here!”

But once again, the Ghost had vanished.

***

Valeria had settled into Paulus’s arms, listening to the waning sounds of battle and wondering who the victors would be. The only thing that gave her cause for hope was that she still heard Hercules roaring. She had seen the damnable horrors drag him to the ground, but they obviously hadn’t killed him.
 

Impatience finally got the better of her, and she began to wriggle free of the sandy cleft where the Ghost had left them.

“What are you doing?” Paulus hissed, pulling her back.

“Let go!” She whispered, jamming an elbow into his chest armor. “I need to—”

She froze at the sound of a deep growl above her. A dark wolf, then another, clambered down the bank, their menacing heads swinging from side to side. The beasts sniffed at the carcass, then they turned to stare at Valeria and Paulus.

One of the beasts approached to sniff at the two terrified youngsters, its wet snout brushing against Valeria’s toes. Then it turned and lifted its leg to send a spray of urine over her feet. Satisfied, it scratched at the ground a few times, then trotted off with its companion as more wolves poured down the bank. The survivors of the pack, moving now in unnerving silence, ran past as Valeria and Paulus gripped each other in stark terror. Valeria barely heard the ragged cheer that went up from the battlefield, so focused was she on the nightmares passing by. A few of the monsters glanced her way, but none so much as paused for a closer look.
 

The huge pack splashed across the stream and up the far bank to disappear into the forest.

After they’d gone, Valeria didn’t so much as move a muscle. She and Paulus stayed right where they were, clinging together and shivering with fright.
 

Not long after the dark wolves had disappeared, the Ghost returned, holding a pair of bloodstained tunics. He gently took Valeria’s hand and pulled her from the cleft, then did the same with Paulus.
 

“Thank you,” Valeria said. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“I owe you a debt I suspect I’ll never be able to repay,” Paulus told the stranger, bowing his head.

The Ghost only nodded in return.
 

Valeria turned and began clambering up the bank to see what had become of Hercules, Marcus, and the others, when she again felt the Ghost’s hand on her arm. He shook his head vigorously before pointing to the stream.
 

She laughed. “I can take a bath later.” Again, she tried to move up the bank, but he stopped her, more forcefully this time.

In the distance, Hercules made a pitiful mewling sound that tore at her heart. “I have to get back.” She pointed in the direction of the sound. “He needs me. And we must see what we can do for the others.”

The Ghost shook his head. He pointed at his nose, then at Valeria, then in the direction leading to Hercules, and put his hands together to mimic jaws closing around Valeria’s throat.

“Of course!” Paulus said, as understanding suddenly dawned. “We have to wash away the scent he showered us with that deceived the beasts. If you go up to Hercules now, you’re going to smell — very strongly, I might add — like a dark wolf. He might not hurt you, but I don’t think you should take the chance. I know I don’t want to.”