The Book of Kane (10 page)

And as life leaked from his smashed skull, a flash of sanity returned to the human. In that moment Baron Troylin knew that the end to the kaleidoscope was death.
One final kick and the cell door flew open; the stubborn iron bracket had at last been torn from its socket. Breathing heavily from the exertion, Kane limped from the cell. Around him all was silent. No wolves met his sight.

Carefully he ran up the stairs from the cellar and peered along the empty corridors. Again nothing. Silently be slipped down the hallways, heading for the main part of the castle. As he had no weapon, he moved with extreme caution, knowing that his chances were slim should he encounter the pack. But nothing challenged his progress, other than an occasional cluster of dead. From the many human and wolf carcasses he met, it was clear that within the castle had been fought a vicious battle.

His keen ears caught the sound quickly, and he smiled grimly as he recognized it. Silently he followed it to its source. He entered the great hall.

Evingolis sat in his accustomed corner, his long fingers once more drawing haunting notes from the lute. The two regarded one another in the stillness of the darkened hall.

Kane broke the quiet. “So it was you. I was a fool not to have realized it before! I had suspicions—but I felt the same way toward too many others.”

The minstrel continued to play, favoring his left arm slightly. “They seldom realize until it’s too late,” he began. “No one expects violence of a minstrel—an albino, at that. Over and over it’s happened. I prepare the trap, and white they’re falling one by one, the survivors fight among themselves with fear and suspicion. Break down trust, and men are helpless. And no one suspects the minstrel. Always it goes that way,”

“Always?”

“Perhaps. The pattern repeats itself. Variations fall within the frame. Usually it happens as it did here. I wander into a new place, play around the area, pick up information until I find an arrangement that I can manipulate.

“And once I succeed in isolating a group of men into a situation that I control, my pack and I wreak our vengeance! For it is your race, Kane, that dared to leave its home in the trees to challenge the Brotherhood! Man and his weapons and his traitor hounds! Man who seeks to banish the Brotherhood to the wastelands! Man who declares his stifling cities to be civilization—a society superior to the wild freedom of the pack!

“Perhaps the day shall come when man and his cities shall be destroyed by the plagues, the famines, the wars his idiocy perpetuates. And then shall the Brotherhood once again run free. But until then there will be those in your smug flock who will pay the penalty for the insolence of your race! These shall know the wrath of the Brotherhood!

“Here it was rather simple. I found out in Carrasahl that Baron Troylin owned this conveniently isolated estate; then it was just a matter of discovering how to get him here. Easy enough. A spell on his son causes him to run berserk, a scandal results, and the baron is forced to retire. This way I not only could use Henderin for a scapegoat, but under the spell I could also control his actions. He was useful at times—and so was old Lystric. The fool gladly took credit for any suggestions I offered—even to bring Henderin up here.
“So I have a sizable party of humans isolated from their fellows. Next step is to cut off escape. The storm I summoned took care of that part. I almost had you on two occasions that night, but you eluded me each time. Then it was simply a matter of slowly cutting down their strength until an outright attack could destroy the remnant. My strategy should be obvious to you by now. At first I arranged for my wolves to split the hunt by driving a second elk across your path, then they ambushed your half. They should have killed you then, but again I underestimated you.”

“Then you know who I am,” said Kane, “—and what I am.”

The minstrel laughed softly. “Yes, I know about you—and I’ve guessed a lot more. As I’ve wandered I’ve cut across your trail occasionally—it seems neither of us stays in one place very long! And I’ve heard a good many stories about a wanderer named Kane. The old legends and sagas haven’t forgotten you either. Even that old fool Lystric had some suspicions of the truth about you.”

He laughed again. Kane remembered the panting laughter of the wolf—soft, tongue lolling. “I even saw you once in my youth—over a century ago now, in old Lynortis. You were scheming your way into the court, I recall. The city was destroyed not long after that—by treachery within, the tale was.

“So your presence here had me worried after I realized who you were. But I soon found a use for you as an added diversion. You played into my hands last night in Lystric’s chamber. I spared you then in order to make it appear as if you were the werewolf everyone so desperately feared. If they killed you as I had intended, then you would be taken care of, and the rest would relax their vigilance. Instead they let you live, split their strength to guard both you and Henderin, and were still careless.

“Tonight I had Henderin escape again, planning to use him for a diversion while I let my pack inside the castle. As it happened I didn’t need him for that—the guard at the gate slept until the moment Henderin killed him. Later when I discovered Breenanin had barred her chamber with silver, I used him to break in and drive her out. The fool attacked me then, and I had to kill him before I had intended. The bitch had spirit though! She stabbed me with a little dagger, and I left to circle around.

“Meanwhile Troylin had been able to fight off my wolves in my absence. But I came on him outside her room and finished them.”

Kane surveyed the destruction about him, the smashed figure on the floor. “And Breenanin?” he asked, wondering that he felt concern.

Evingolis snarled. “That gross fool killed her himself! The idiot must have thought she was to blame for all my work. Killed her with her own dagger!” Kane winced. “Really makes me furious—I had some interesting plans for the girl! She’s still warm and I suppose 1 can still have some fun—but it isn’t the same as when her struggling heart forces hot red spurts over your muzzle!”

He laughed again, running a long tongue over his lips in memory of unspeakable pleasures. “What’s wrong, Kane? I know you aren’t squeamish about such things. No, I think you really felt something for that girl. Love? You don’t even know what the word means! Kane—doomed with the curse of eternal wandering—in love with a mortal girl! A flower who would be faded and gone before you could even understand! Her lifetime a day of yours! By this nine you’ve surely seen this happen enough to understand the absurdity of it! No, I know what it was! She loved you—and you were simply stunned to receive anything other than false love artificially induced by your cunning manipulations—and more often by far, to receive only fear and hatred! And you were so moved with the novelty you tried to discover tenderness in that stone you call your heart! Ah, Kane! You’ve crown soft headed in your dotage!” Kane stared silently at the taunting minstrel. In his eyes the cold flames of death were leaping.

“Yes, it is a rare jest! And here the two of us stand— human shapes in a hall of death. Human in shape only, for the humans all lie dead! Kane—you’re as far apart from this carrion in your own way as I am in mine! Two immortals, it seems, and both of us leave only death and destruction in our wake! I wonder, Kane! The wretch I killed at the first of my storm—from beyond death he made a prophecy that out of the storm would come a man not man who would bring death to all! I wonder though—which of us did he mean!”

The albino laid aside his lute, still chuckling wolfishly. “Well Kane, this has been a most interesting game. I salute you. You have led an extraordinary career, to use an absurd understatement. I admire you. Perhaps I understand you. And you of all men are the first to command my respect.

“I will derive immense pleasure from killing you!” He arose.

Kane had been prepared for the change, but he had not expected its abruptness. One instant the minstrel stood laughing before him—there was a split- sccondblur, as if Kane’s eyes had momentarily gone out of focus—then a snarling hulk of white furred death was leaping for him!

That ruined one chance, cursed Kane, who had hoped to launch his attack while the creature was in the throes of transformation. As Evingolis hurtled toward him, Kane grasped the table which separated them, and heaving with all his fantastic strength he hurled the massive structure full against the rushing beast. The werewolf went under in a crashing tangle of splintering furnishings. For a moment it had to free itself from the wreckage; in that second’s hesitation Kane dashed for the stairs at the end of the hall. From the minstrel’s story, the silver dagger should still be impaled in Breenanin’s lifeless form, growing cold in her chamber. Kane knew his chance of reaching it was slight, but it would be a weapon against the werewolf if he could get to it.

He pounded up the stairs. Howling in rage, Evingolis tore clear of the wreckage and hurtled after Kane. Kane had a slight lead and he moved with all his great speed, but before be had reached the top stair his awesome pursuer had nearly overtaken him. Snatching claws raked his boot. Kane made the top and tried desperately to reach the door of Breenanin’s room. Halfway there and he knew he would never make it—another few steps and the werewolf would be on him!

Kane suddenly leapt into the air, pivoted in midflight , and lashed out with his boot into the chest of the werewolf. The power of his blow knocked the creature backward, grunting in surprise and pain. The dagger was beyond reach. Kane knew his only chance would be to kill his assailant with sheer physical force. But man against demon seemed hopelessly mismatched. Yet Kane was not an ordinary man.

As Evingolis fettered from the surprise kick of the human, Kane hurled himself against the werewolf! Driven with the brutal power of his thick legs, Kane’s massive body caught Evingolis off balance and sent him reeling backward over the brink of the stairs. Wrapped in a deadly embrace, man and demon plummeted down the long, stairway, rolling over and over, crashing agonizingly against the steps and wall! With a surge of strength Kane gained a brief contact with the spinning stairway and used the purchase to push their fall over the edge. Splintering the railing, the locked combatants plunged off into space ten feet above the stone floor under them! Kane wrenched himself atop the snarling werewolf just before they smashed onto the floor.

The force of the fall flung them apart. Evingolis’s furry body had cushioned Kane’s fall, and he rolled away with only severe bruises from the tumble. Leaping to his feet he faced his enemy again. The fall would have crushed a human antagonist, but Evingolis appeared only to be even more enraged. Still he seemed to be a little stunned and staggered as he rose to meet Kane.

Once again Kane rushed the werewolf, hoping to hit him before he could recover. But the creature leapt aside, catching Kane in a loose grip, and threw him across the floor. Kane skidded over the stones, breaking his fall, and he was able to catch himself just as Evingolis sprang for him. With lightning speed Kane pulled up his legs, and with his back on the floor he caught the lunging beast on the chest and hurled him on over his body. The werewolf landed heavily, but was again on his feet with Kane.

The two circled warily, watching for the other to offer an opening. Evingolis was amazed with the human’s strength and speed—and the punishment he had taken was considerable. Painfully throbbing and bleeding once more, the dagger wound was handicapping him. Raw fury coursed through his demon brain. He must kill this human—must tear out his life. Kane was badly battered as well, but his hellish blood lust was fully aroused. No fear did he experience—only the insane desire to kill and destroy. Silently they waited for the other to make a mistake.

Evingolis’s impatience to kill his human foe spurred him to break the impasse. Confident in his inhuman strength and razor-like weapons, the werewolf sprang! Kane knew to leap back would only leave him exposed to the followup of the creature’s attack. Again he did the unexpected. Ducking down, Kane let his opponent’s clutching arms pass over him; then he hurled himself at the creature’s throat!

Kane’s powerful hands gripped the werewolf’s furry throat, holding those gnashing tusks away from his straining flesh. Evingolis wrapped his long arms about the human’s body, striving to crush his spine in this deadly embrace. They rocked back and forth in the gloom of the hall, two titanic figures straining with unbelievable strength to overpower the other. The pressure on Kane’s ribs was unbearable, but his powerful muscles knotted to resist the awesome strength of the werewolf’s embrace. All the while Kane tightened his strangler’s grip about the thick throat of the demon.

Evingolis began to feel the consuming need for breath. He relentlessly tightened his crushing hold on Kane’s trunk, trying to snap the human’s back and thereby break his stranglehold. But the wound in his shoulder kept him from getting full use of one arm, and the werewolf had never encountered such massive strength and endurance in a human before. He champed his fangs futilely, unable to roach the human; clawing Kane’s back with his fearsome talons, he fought the need for air. He could feel ribs starting to buckle under his tightening arms!

The pain from his back and ribs was a white hot agony now, but Kane continued to lock his hands about Evingolis’s throat. He knew his only chance would be to outlast his opponent, even though the awful pressure made it almost impossible to force air into his own lungs. Suddenly the werewolf loosed his vice-like grip! Evingolis must have air; frantically he tried to break Kane’s grip, snapping his slavering fangs and ripping wildly with his clawed hands!

They fell to the floor then. Kane landed atop the werewolf, and immediately he sought to pinion the punishing arms, whose talons now sought his face. Hunching forward on Evingolis’s chest, Kane succeeded in pinning his shoulders with his knees. The creature writhed in great spasms, his limbs flailing desperately!

Then the wild struggles of the werewolf grew weaker. Its inhuman vitality was failing under the attack of a more powerful one. With glazing vision Evingolis stared into the cold blue eyes of Kane and recognized the death that flamed within. Under Kane’s deadly hands suddenly grated the dull crunch of snapping vertebrae.