Little Ant’s hands trembled when she removed the tip of a spear from its shaft and tied it into a longer one. One long enough for the viscount to wield. Then she prepared two more spears in case the bear prince was able to smash them, and the viscount needed a spare. While she worked, she was able to push down her pain and loss. There would be time for mourning later. Time to be overwhelmed by them.
If they survived the night.
When she went to take the spear to the viscount, she saw him talking to Bee in hushed tones. Bee listened intently and kept nodding. Little Ant cleared her throat to make her presence known.
“Viscount.” Little Ant said and offered the spear.
The viscount nodded solemnly and took the spear.
“Thank you, Little Ant.” The viscount said.
The viscount had removed his overcoat, vest, and shirt. Like Sparrow, his stomach was flat and hard, and his arms were thick and muscular with calloused knuckles. The viscount weighed the spear in his hands and did a practice thrust to get a feel for it.
“You… are you sure about this, viscount?” Little Ant said.
“I have hunted bears before.” The viscount said.
“With your rifle.” Little Ant said and looked at the bear prince: “And he is not just a bear. He is a god of the Wild.”
“A petty god.” The viscount said and looked at her: “I don’t follow a Path, but my House has a tenet too. Fortune favors the bold. That petty god will regret crossing me. There is a trick to killing a bear with just a spear.”
“What trick?”
“You will see.” The viscount said.
Little Ant couldn’t think of anything else to say and the viscount nodded at her before stepping into the ring.
A ring formed by skin-changer bears.
A ring where the bear prince was waiting for him.
A ring only one of them would leave alive.
His Terrible Highness looked even bigger than before, and it seemed reckless that anyone would choose to fight him. Thinking you could kill him sounded like pure madness. The viscount’s courage approached insanity.
She could only pray he had the luck of heroes.
Little Ant walked to Nuncio’s side who was chewing his lip bloody. The fox prince had assumed his human disguise to save what little power he had left and sat by Nuncio’s feet.
“This is insane. We should be fighting together. Not against each other.” Nuncio said.
“The Bear Clan has always been stubborn.” Little Ant said.
“And my bear cousin… has always been the most stubborn of them all.” The fox prince wheezed: “If I had all my limbs… he would never dare to talk to me like that.”
Nuncio swiped the sweat off his brow.
“Sal… how powerful is that thing?”
“A bigger… dumber version of me but next to our wolf cousin… he is nothing. A bump on the road.” The fox prince said.
Little Ant shivered and set her sights back into the ring.
The bear prince had the easy confidence of someone who thought he had already won. He looked at the viscount’s spear and sniffed it.
“What are you doing?” The viscount said.
“Making sure there is no poison. Only a fool would expect a man to fight with honor.” The bear prince said.
“You have some gall talking to me about honor.” The viscount said.
The bear prince let out a rumbling laugh.
“Any last words?” The bear prince asked.
“For you? Yes. You are going to die tonight and when you get to hell, everyone will know you for what you are. A fool.”
The bear prince let out a roar.
“I have words for you too, human. Tonight, I will get justice for our murdered brother!” The bear prince said.
The skin-changer bears cheered their prince on while the goblins looked around uneasily.
The bear prince stood on his hind legs and drummed his chest.
“I dedicate this battle to our divine mother! Her Terrible Majesty!” The bear prince roared before looking at Cassio: “I am ready.”
In response the viscount raised his spear.
“I dedicate this battle to House Rossi.”
The viscount did not waste his time with anymore words and just pointed his spear at the bear prince. It was surprising to see the viscount hold the spear like a goblin. The weapon could have been an extension of his arm.
Blessing of the Quiet upon you, Little Ant thought.
The combatants began circling each other, trying to get the measure of each other’s skills, strengths, and weaknesses. Being sure of his victory, the bear prince swiped at the viscount. It was a strong attack. Powerful and fast.
But sloppy.
Out of all the skin-changer clans, the bears had them all beat when it came to brute strength. Not even the Wolf Clan and their fabled prince could match them in pure power. But too much of a good thing could be a curse. Like the lesser skin-changer she had faced with the viscount and fox prince, there was little skill in the bear prince’s movements. He just assumed that he could overwhelm anyone with his superior strength.
In contrast, there was nothing sloppy about the viscount.
Combat was a brutal affair and only the great masters could make it look effortless. Like the viscount did. He had the light feet of a man who had been learning to fight ever since he had been old enough to walk. Sparrow had been the same. Growing up in the Bone Flock Tribe, battle had been second nature to him. It was part of who he was.
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But she feared it wouldn’t be enough.
There were no wasted movements when he counterattacked and drove his spear towards the bear prince’s snout.
The skin-changer growled and reeled back while the viscount aimed his next attack at the bear prince’s leg. The other bears had begun to murmur amongst each other when they saw their prince, the strongest of their clan, struggling to kill one man. The bear prince silenced them with one furious glare, but you could see the shock getting to him. Shock turned the bear prince’s bemused cruelty into cold and focused hatred and when the viscount tried to go for his knee, the bear prince broke the spear under his paw.
“Spear!” The viscount yelled.
Bee threw the viscount a new spear… just when the bear prince slammed into him.
For one horrifying moment Little Ant thought that the battle was over. That the bear prince had won. That the viscount’s body had been broken and their lives were forfeit.
Instead, the lion soared over the bear.
Not even Sparrow had had such finely tuned control over his own body. When the bear prince came at him, the viscount used the bear prince’s own momentum to his advantage and leaped over him. The bear prince’s surprise was palpable, and the viscount grabbed the fallen spear and drove it into the bear prince’s back. The skin-changer let out an annoyed growl but managed to keep his anger in check.
They started circling each other again and the bear prince’s demeanor had changed. He no longer saw a bug he could crush at his leisure but an enemy who had to be dealt with caution. Sensing that his opponent was not just lashing out blindly, the viscount did the only thing he could and used his superior nimbleness and reach to chip away at the bear prince.
Nuncio’s teeth had begun to chatter, and the fox prince’s breathing became even more labored. They could both feel it.
Someone who knew nothing of war might have thought them evenly matched but Little Ant knew that the bear prince still had every advantage. His hide and muscles were too thick for the viscount to pierce. Scratches were the best he could do. The Lionheart might have had superior skill, but he only had to make one mistake while the bear prince could afford a thousand. The longer the battle raged, the sooner the viscount would slip. A man could not tire out a god.
A man killing a god was the stuff of legends.
Something the bear prince knew all too well and he wore the viscount down with endless barrage of brutal blows that he could only avoid by the breadth of a hair. His skills were impressive but when you could do no real harm, he was just delaying the inevitable. Little Ant could only pray for a miracle. For the viscount to do the impossible.
Then the impossible happened.
The bear prince’s movements became… sluggish.
Had he been a normal animal, Little Ant could have believed that all the small cuts had added up, but he was a god of The Wyrding. The prince of his clan. What was going on? First, she looked at the spear the viscount wielded and then at Bee who had thrown it to him. When Bee felt eyes on her, she glanced at Little Ant and then flashed the small bottle hidden in her paw. Filled with the poison that had paralyzed the fox prince during the sealing of his wound.
Even when poisoned, the bear prince kept on fighting, but the flow had changed to the lion’s favor.
Every armor had its weaknesses and the viscount drove his spear into the bear prince’s front paw, severing three claws. The bear prince lost his focus and under his clan’s watchful eyes, stumbled away from the viscount.
Instead of using the opportunity to attack, the viscount stood back and gave the bear prince a chance to collect himself.
“Last chance to surrender.” The viscount said.
“Surrender?” The bear prince growled.
“Yes. Surrender or die.”
The bear prince just roared and rose on his hind legs to appear larger. The viscount raised his spear again.
“Never!” The bear prince roared.
“So be it.” The viscount said.
Most would have stepped back from a standing bear, intimidated by the naked aggression but the viscount rushed forward and planted his spear against the ground. When the bear prince fell back on all fours, his own weight did what the viscount’s arms could not.
It broke his armor carved from bone and muscles and drove the spear through his body.
The skin-changer bears had fallen quiet. The goblins had fallen quiet. The night had fallen quiet. Nuncio looked like he was on the verge of passing out while the fox prince could have been a puppet whose strings had been cut.
All of them could only stare as they witnessed a miracle.
The only sound made was the low moan of the bear prince when he tried to stand up but the poison and the spear in his guts were too much even for him. This time there was no offer for surrender and the viscount pulled out his knife.
He jumped on the bear prince’s back and drove the knife through his eye.
All the way into his brain.
The bear prince twitched once… twice… thrice… and fell still when the machinery of his soul broke down. The viscount stood up and looked at the bears with his hands and chest red with the blood of a god.
“Anybody else?”
The whispers and murmurs started immediately.
“King of Fire reborn. King Eld come again. The First King of Men reincarnated.”
Little Ant could not contain her elation and she began cheering. The fox prince and Nuncio were the first ones to join her and soon the entire Hillside Tribe was screaming the viscount’s name.
“Lionheart! Lionheart! Lionheart!”
The Bear Clan could only look at the viscount with terror and awe. The man who had struck down the strongest of them.
When they finally got over their shock, one of the bears approached the viscount. With their prince dead, the great sloth bear was the largest in the sleuth of bears. The viscount watched him approach without fear and the sloth bear bowed his head to the lion. The Hillside Tribe fell quiet to let them talk in peace.
“My lord Lionheart. Congratulations for your victory.” The sloth bear said.
The viscount’s face was a cool mask, but Little Ant could see the anger in his eyes. Anger he was keeping in check. The heat of the battle was still making his blood boil.
“Your prince fought well.” The viscount said.
“He was our prince.” The sloth bear said simply and looked at the body of his deceased prince: “But he is dead now and our clan has no prince.”
Little Ant could feel the fox prince tense up next to her like he had just seen a glimpse of a future he didn’t like. The sloth bear raised his head and looked the viscount in the eyes.
“Would you like the honor? Would you be the first among equals? Would you surrender your memories and shape to me and be reborn with me as His Terrible Highness? Prince of the Bear Clan.”
The Hillside Tribe was ablaze hearing this and the Bear Clan stared at the viscount with reverence when they imagined adding his power into their ranks.
“Together we would be powerful enough to punish the vampire for his crimes. We could hunt him down and make him pay for our fox cousin’s leg. You could avenge your humiliation.” The sloth bear said.
She could see it in the viscount. The temptation. The lust for power. The machinery of his mind was turning… but then he hesitated and looked at the fox price who was about to pass out from the pain.
“Sal, advice me.” The viscount said.
The fox prince wheezed and panted when he tried to think clearly.
“… don’t… do it.” The fox prince said.
The viscount was quiet for a moment and then walked over to the fox prince. The fox tried to stand up to the lion, but he was a spent force and could only lie and wait.
“Why not? Why should I say no to immortality? To the power of a god? When you gave it to Sal Torrini? When you offered it to Old Badger so many times?”
The Hillside Tribe looked uneasily as a mortal hero lectured their wounded guardian deity but after seeing him strike down the bear prince, no one dared to challenge the Lionheart’s authority.
“… you… will die.” The fox prince said.
“And he will be reborn.” The sloth bear said.
The fox prince groaned and then slammed his fist to the ground and forced himself to stand. He used the viscount for support and the Lionheart let him but did nothing to help him up. Not this time. Little Ant couldn’t even imagine the pain the fox prince had to be in… or the force of will needed to fight it.
“… I finally understand… why she said no… you will be… just a mask… worn by a god… it will look like you but… it will no longer be you…”
“She never took it and now she is dead.” The viscount said.
“So… is he…” The fox prince said and pointed at the dead bear prince: “… so… what use… is that power to you? … Cassio… trust my wisdom… and hers…”
With nothing more left to give, the fox prince collapsed into the viscount arms. He caught his friend and helped him down gently. Little Ant and Nuncio rushed to his side and helped him rest while the viscount turned to face the bears.
“I am honored by your offer, but I must turn it down. My soul and form are my own.” The viscount said.
“You could be a god.” The sloth bear pleaded.
“Someone wiser than me didn’t see the appeal.” The viscount said and walked up to the sloth bear: “Your clan has wronged me. You attacked us during a time of mourning.”
“We did.” The sloth bear admitted.
“I demand reparations. You will repay me by following my orders and helping me in hunting down the vampire. In return I will give your clan justice for you brother.”
The sloth bear looked disappointed but then bowed his head.
“Lord Lionheart is as just as he is brave.”
The fox prince coughed and motioned Little Ant to get closer. Little Ant leaned in to hear him whisper with a broken voice.
“… no… they can’t… resist… his powers…”
Little Ant nodded to show she understood and then stood up.
“Viscount… if the Bear Clan goes after him, they will fall under the vampire’s powers. Like the skin-changer bear he enslaved.” Little Ant said.
The viscount clenched his fist annoyed when a hole was poked in his plan and Little Ant tried to imagine what would happen if they rode to face Pietro and then he turned their allies against them. How could they ever stand against an army of skin-changer bears?
That image flashed before her eyes when she heard the flapping of great wings and cold shadow flew over her. The fox prince twitched and groaned while lying in Nuncio’s arms.
“… no…” The fox prince whispered.
Goblins and skin-changers alike looked with terror when they saw the giant owl flying towards them. Little Ant could see it. The Bear Clan falling under Pietro’s thrall and ripping them all to shreds while the master vampire laughed. All their struggles and sacrifices reduced to blood-stained dust.
Bee raised her spear.
“Hillside Tribe! To arms! Protect the wounded!”
The slot bear let out a roar when he took control over his sleuth.
“Bear Clan! Defend the goblins! Resist his magic! Bring the vermin’s head to our mother! For Her Terrible Majesty!” The sloth bear roared.
“For our mother!” The Bear Clan shouted.
Inspired by the Bear Clan, the goblins shouted out their own war cry.
“For Old Badger!”
The dead traveled fast, and the vampire owl was so horrifyingly quick. Too fast for them to flee or prepare. All they could do was arm themselves… and go down fighting. She looked at the fox prince, Nuncio, and his mother… and wondered if it would be kinder to give them the gift of mercy rather than let them fall into Pietro’s talons. Screaming Beasts like Pietro liked playing with their food.
When she glanced at the viscount, she realized that the same thought was running through his mind.
With grim determination, Little Ant picked her spear and stood by the viscount’s side to face whatever came.
“Little Ant, when the fighting starts, take as many goblins as you can and flee. You serve the Quiet. You’re the only one among us who can lose him.” The viscount said.
“What?!” Little Ant gasped appalled: “I won’t leave you to…!”
“That is an order. I won’t have you too dying on my watch.” The viscount said and glanced at his wounded friend: “I… I will look after Sal and the others.”
She wanted to scream, cry, and argue. How could she leave her tribe to die while she fled… but she knew… that if one remained, the Hillside Tribe could rise again. She could be the seed of a new Hillside Tribe. She could keep their customs… and Old Badger’s wisdom alive.
Waiting for the worst, they prepared to face the vampire.
But…
… instead of soaring above them and taking control of the Bear Clan, denying them even their last stand, the vampire owl crashed into the camp with terrible force like he had forgotten how to fly. Dirt was thrown about when the vampire was left lying in a heap and hope sprung in Little Ant’s heart.
The poison! Pietro was still weak from devouring the fox prince’s flesh and flying here had cost him the last of his strength. Something the viscount realized too.
“Kill him!” The viscount shouted.
They all prepared to fall on the vampire and take him apart. They would have done it too if not for a single voice.
“Stop!”
It was unbelievable that Nuncio’s mother could scream loud enough to bring them all to halt but somehow, she managed. That was not the only surprise that night. Despite how withered her legs were, she was able to stand up and walk on her own. It was a painful sight. Like watching someone limp through a field of thorns. They were all so taken by the display of determination that no one could even think about stopping her and Nuncio’s mother walked over to the vampire with one torturous step after another.
“… mom?” Nuncio said.
“… it’s okay, Nuncio… it will be okay.” His mother said without looking at him: “… a mother… recognizes her daughter.”
She walked over to the great owl and then lied next to it, stroking the vampire’s head.
“… oh, Elysa… my baby girl… what did he do to you?”