The Unsuspecting Mage - Brian S. Pratt [19]
James turns and flees toward the river. Their growls and snarls give swift speed to his flight. The wolves close fast and his flight is cut short as he is forced to turn toward them, spear held out before him. Swinging the weapon to and fro, he is momentarily successful at keeping the wolves at bay.
“Back!” he shouts, fear tingeing his voice with hysteria.
Doing his best to ward off their attacks, he backs up slowly until his feet enter the coolness of the water’s edge. A wolf darts in and only a quick thrust of the spear prevented the animal from sinking its jaws into his leg. Over a dozen wolves are arrayed before him along the shoreline. For the moment they appear content to merely watch as he backs farther into the river. The coldness of the water and the terror of being torn apart keep him from being able to formulate any spells.
Two steps, three, he slowly puts distance between himself and the wolves. At step number four, as if by some unseen signal, the wolves rush him en masse. He lays about with his spear, using it like a quarterstaff. For a time he manages to strike the onrushing wolves with the broadside of the spear, even managing to stab a few; but they are beginning to wear him down. He still has not fully recovered from the night before.
With his footing becoming treacherous as his legs slowly lose feeling due to the coldness of the water, he slips on a loose stone under the water. Having to thrust his spear into the riverbed to remain upright he’s unable to maintain his defense.
Seeing its chance, one wolf rushes in and nips him on the leg, tearing a three inch long gash along just below the knee. Blood flows freely from the wound and the pain is intense. James is certain this will soon be his end.
He regains his balance and thrusts with his spear at the wolf that bit him, driving it back. His swings become ever increasingly slower and less powerful. Never having been what one would call athletic, his arms quickly lose the endurance to continue wielding the heavy spear.
A large wolf leaps for his throat and James brings the spear around just in time, piercing the wolf’s chest. Though dead, the wolf’s momentum carries it forward and slams square into James, knocking him backward into the water. The wolf’s dead weight settles upon him and nearly prevents him from raising his head above the water.
In panicked desperation, he struggles to remove the wolf but it’s far too heavy for him to move in his weakened state. Three more wolves enter the water and move in to finish it. Barely able to keep his head above water, James struggles to remove his spear from the dead wolf. As the spear comes free, a growl draws his attention to a wolf less than a foot away. Even as he swings the spear point toward the wolf, he knows it will be too late. The wolf leaps…
Thwock!
An arrow takes the wolf in the side. Mortally wounded, the beast thrashes in the water.
Looking over his shoulder, James stares across the stream in disbelief to where a man stands with bow in hand. Another arrow grazes the side of a second wolf that had been coming in for the attack.
“Come on. Move! Stay there and you’re going to die.”
With the prospect of surviving this ordeal once again a reality, renewed strength fills his limbs. Taking hold of the wolf pressing him into the water, he gives out with a mighty groan and the carcass comes free. As the dead animal sinks beneath the surface, James uses the spear to aid in gaining his feet.
A wolf’s painful cry heralds another arrow having found its mark as he wades though the water toward the far side. His wounded leg only makes traversing the slippery, rock-filled bed more difficult. Though progress was slow, James reaches the shallows just as his leg gives out altogether.
Letting fly another arrow, the man puts an arm under James’ shoulder and helps walk him from the river.
James gives his benefactor a weak “Thanks” before collapsing into unconsciousness.
Chapter Three