Shadow and Memory

Part 2

Wulfric bent his legs and leaped up high, grabbing onto the slanted edge of a fallen wall. He hoisted himself up on it and ran, taking a charging leap out over the middle of them. He saw weapons being raised up, as if they meant to catch him upon their blade tips before he could land. But Wulfric hauled his arm back and then snapped forward, letting his axe free.

The enormous weapon made a heavy whoosh as it spiraled through the air and flashed with reflected light. The mass of warriors flinched away from it in reflex, their blades wavering for the crucial moment it took for Wulfric to come down. The axe slammed into the floor and the blade bit home, standing up on end.

Heavy paws landed with a thump, and he grabbed the axe handle and wrenched the weapon free in a full circle swing that threw sparks from where the enchanted blade cut solid stone. The shock of his entrance gone, they swarmed in upon him now, slashing and stabbing. But he had the longer reach and stride, and used both to his advantage.

His axe cleaved left and right, swung in great two handed arcs, gripping the handle near its lowest point. His long arms and the great weapon were slashing whole semi-circles out of the formation assailing him. His enemies, in whole or in part, were flying back away from him before trying to get in again under his guard.

It may have looked like some heroic fantasy out of the old sagas, but Wulfric was painfully aware how risky this situation was. His advantages were in shock and mobility, if these creatures could find their nerve, press him hard and get in a few lucky hits, then they would overwhelm him.

Almost as soon as he thought this he felt a stab of pain in his back. Something sharp punched through his thick fur and bit into his flesh, tearing a roar of anger and pain from him. He reached back and grabbed the spear's haft, wrenching sideways without looking. He felt the impact reverberate up the haft and saw a battered foe sailing through the air. He used the pilfered weapon as quickly as he'd grabbed it, a point blank throw punching the spearhead clear through a foe's chest and out his back.

This was how he could die here, he thought grimly. For every one he slew or maimed another seemed to boil out of the darkness and charge in, heedless of its own safety. His fury and strength meant little against a horde like this, it was like trying to beat back an avalanche.

"Wulfric!" Carol's clear, high voice pierced the battle haze like a knife, and he quickly turned to the source. Carol had been cut off, surrounded. Forced to climb a small tower to keep away from the mass of armed figures below her. Even as she shouted to him he saw her shoot down one that was climbing the jagged stone with the sureness of a spider, but even as he watched three more started to ascent.

She'd almost made it though, he could see a hint of sunlight from this angle, so high above them to be almost like a star in the featureless sky of rock. They just had to get a little further. He just had to get a little further.

With a great roar he charged on a straight line towards her, swinging his axe back and forth before him to beat his foes aside. He felt more blades bite into him as he ran but he didn't care. He swung again, forcing those before him to jump aside, and willed himself to change.

His axe melted away and vanished in the blink of an eye, sent away in the same manner as his human clothing had, for it did not belong to this form. He fell onto all fours and assumed the form of the enormous dire wolf. A snarl on his lips, he charged. His lowered head was like a battering ram, and his speed was more than the spindly creatures around him could match.

He burst from their ranks like an arrow loosed from the bow, pelting across open ground towards the tower where Carol still shot back at her attackers. Across the great distance their eyes met, and he could see her smile. Despite it all, she smiled at him.