Son of Thunder - Murray J. D. Leeder [103]
The world around Vell faded and shifted as he focused on the object of his rage. Brown eyes locked on the two bloodshot eyes that had such little humanity left in them. Even when Keirkrad was at his very worst, he was at least human. Now the elements of his humanity had been sacrificed for this sick taint.
Is this what I will become? thought Vell as he continued his assault. He was no longer conscious of his own body, human or behemoth; that awareness floated away on a sea of desperate fury. All of the anger he had held in check against the Shepherds, and against those of his own tribe who had shunned him for a lifetime, he unleashed on Keirkrad. He sated his need for vengeance against all those who had made him this amalgam of man and beast. He cried, weeping tears of rage for all the blows he had absorbed in his life. His tears dripped onto Keirkrad's snarling face below him.
They dripped from human eyes.
When his senses cleared, Vell found his bare hands locked around Keirkrad's neck, the werebat underneath him, pinned and struggling on the ground. Pulling back in shock, he released his grip just in time for the axe to swing down and slice through Keirkrad's throat. Thluna's blow separated the werebat's head from its body and sent it rolling away.
Vell weakly pulled himself to his feet, wiping streaks of tears from his cheeks. Beneath him sprawled the open-winged remnants of the man who had been their shaman for longer than any Thunderbeast could remember. Vell stared down on the spectacle of ruin, appalled. The ugly bat face rolled to a stop and lay facedown in the dirt.
Thanar rushed over to heal Rask's wound. Much to the half-orc's relief, the druid discovered that he had not been infected with lycanthropy.
"I loved him," Vell reflected. "Our shaman. All my childhood I was told to love him, and so I did."
"That's true of us all," said Thluna. He propped up the axe and cleaned the blade of Keirkrad's blood. "But it was not our shaman of old we just killed."
"Is that truly so?" Vell asked. "I wonder."
Kellin stood near Vell and placed a sympathetic hand on his arm. She felt a tremble as her flesh touched his.
"It's sad that Keirkrad had to die," she said. "But it's for the best."
"There is no doubt of that," said Thanar. "He is the reason I could not make my home in Grunwald. If our tribe is to survive, his type must be consigned to the past." He turned to face Thluna. "And so, chief of the Thunderbeasts, what honor is appropriate for our fallen shaman?"
Thluna thought for a moment. "Keirkrad was our comrade, and his memory will carry much weight among our brethren. When our fellow, Grallah, fell in the deep wood, we could not pause to honor his body. We have scarcely more time now…" He looked at the Delimbiyr River. "Burial or fire would be a greater honor, but…"
Thanar smiled. "A decision worthy of a chief. Worthy of my chief."
"This all may have been a test," said Rask. A fresh scar, a circle of teeth marks as if from a lamprey's bite, now adorned his chin. "Even the Tree Ghosts knew of Keirkrad and the destiny Uthgar supposedly planned for him-the reason his life was preserved for so long. As a test for us. And we've won." The notion let a contemplative mood settle over the assembled Thunderbeasts. They felt uplifted by the idea that Uthgar had godly plans of such foresight. It might even have redeemed Keirkrad, by justifying his betrayal.
Vell spoke simply but profoundly. "Perhaps, in a way he never imagined, Keirkrad fulfilled his destiny at last."
CHAPTER 18
Sungar smiled though his flesh was raw and his cheeks were flecked with blood. Another afternoon of torture had ripped away all of his strength, but he smiled and laughed through it nevertheless. A trace of light filtered through the tiny window at the top of his cell, casting patterns across the walls, and somewhere nearby a bird chirped merrily, lightening Sungar's spirits.
"It will not be much longer now," he said.
"Can you be certain?" asked Hurd through the wall.
"You said it yourself,"