Moth

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: TIGERS AND WOLVES

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

TIGERS AND WOLVES

They rode across the black, rocky landscape of Eloria, ten thousand riders astride nightwolves. The stars shone above. Their eyes gleamed below. The Chanku Riders had left their crater, and the pack now moved on the greatest hunt of their lives. Under this moon, they did not merely hunt meat.

"We hunt fallen glory," Okado said softly, riding the great Refir, now the alpha wolf of his pack. "We hunt Pahmey."

Wolfjaw Mountain rose behind them in the night, blocking the stars. From its peak Okado had seen the distant city, but here, moving across the plains, the darkness spread into the horizon and no distant lights glowed.

Okado grinned savagely and licked his teeth. He wore his armor--a shirt of steel scales, greaves and vambraces, and a helmet shaped as a wolf's head. His true wolf wore armor too; a helmet protected his head, and spiked steel covered his chest. All around, his fellow warriors wore the same armor, and each rider bore sword, shield, and bow.

And yet Okado was afraid.

He snarled in the night, breath steaming. He wanted to crush that fear, to bury it under his rage, to feel only the lust for battle. He was Alpha. He was a great warrior. He had defeated Yorashi himself, a fighter of legend, and had risen from a lowly fisherman's son into the leader of an army. And yet, as he rode into war, he could not stop the iciness from flowing through his belly.

I've slain beasts and men, but I've never ridden against brick walls, facing an army in war, he thought. Pahmey has warships, cannons, battlements . . . Will we crash against their walls?

He gritted his teeth.

I will feel fear, but I will show none. I will feel fear, but I will fight nonetheless.

He turned in the saddle to face his mate. Suntai sat upon her white wolf, staring ahead with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. The wind streamed her white hair, and in one hand, she clutched her sword.

"When we reach the river," he told her, "we will swim across--you, me, and twenty of our warriors. We will leave our wolves behind. We will enter the city gates clad in cloaks, humble traders come to peddle furs. We will slay the guards. We will hold the gates open as the pack swims across the river and storms the city."

She gave him a crooked smile, one hand holding her sword, the other stroking her wolf. "It is likely, my mate, that we will die."

He shook his head. "Not under this moon. Not in this battle. Suntai, you and I will never die. We will be victorious. We will keep the gates open. Our clan will rise."

She reached across her wolf to clutch his arm. "We will kill together, my mate. We will rise together. I will spill blood at your side, under this moon and every moon. Our wolves will feast upon the hearts of our enemies."

They rode on across the rocky terrain, moving in shadow, the greatest army the Chanku Pack had ever mustered.

With strength, with honor, with the wolf's pride . . . we go home.

They climbed a rocky hill, the wind raising dust, the stars bright above. Okado and Suntai reached the hilltop first, gazed down, and saw the distant lights.

Okado inhaled sharply, tugged the reins, and squinted down at the horizon. His wolf growled beneath him. At his side, he heard Suntai's quick intake of breath.