The Usurper by John Norman Page B

moon but the stars, this rendering more precarious and uncertain Julian’s capacity to keep to the expedition’s original course, that allegedly determined for it in Venitzia. Nonetheless, he and Ausonius had pressed on to the best of their ability, assisted by occasional glimpses of the stars, as the clouds would break, muchly in the same direction, certainly as nearly as they could determine, in which they had been moving. It was an hour or so later that the baying of the wolves had ceased.
    â€œThey are here, they are about,” had said Tuvo Ausonius.
    â€œDo not move,” had said Julian, unslinging his rifle.
    The flight of prey, of course, tends to stimulate pursuit. Too, a running animal does not defend itself. The pack tries for the hind legs, or slashes at flanks, crippling and bleeding the prey, until it slows, turns, and is set upon by the entire pack, and devoured alive. On the other hand, a wary, stationary prey is approached more tentatively, more cautiously. A blow from the paw of a hroth can break a wolf’s neck; the antlers of the field stag, the horns of the forest bull, the tusks of the torodont can shatter rib cages, impale, and disembowel wolves. The torodont is a particularly dangerous prey for a pack as it is commonly gregarious, and forms a defensive circle, with the females and young within the circle.
    â€œI have two charges left,” said Julian.
    â€œThere are at least four about,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
    â€œIf they maintain their distance, I will not fire,” said Julian.
    â€œDo not miss,” said Tuvo.
    â€œI am unlikely to miss at this distance,” said Julian.
    â€œWhy do they not charge?” asked Tuvo.
    â€œThe fire, the fire, I think,” said Julian.
    â€œIt will not last, Masters,” said Nika.
    â€œThen they will attack,” said Tuvo.
    The men heard a low, rumbling growl, from somewhere beyond the flickering ring of darkness and shadows.
    â€œThat is another, another out there,” said Tuvo.
    â€œYes,” said Julian.
    â€œOne creeps forward,” said Tuvo.
    â€œI see him,” said Julian.
    â€œThe trail is lost,” said Tuvo. “Provisions burn. Charges are few. Beasts abound.”
    â€œThe fire grows less, Masters!” said Nika.
    â€œWe are lost,” said Tuvo.
    â€œI will expend one charge,” said Julian. “At this distance, I will not miss. Hopefully others will feed. We have seen that. We might then, with good fortune, withdraw.”
    â€œTo withdraw, wandering into cold and darkness, substantially defenseless, lost and facing starvation,” said Tuvo, “seems to me, dear friend, a surprising concept of good fortune.”
    â€œBe of good cheer,” said Julian. “We might be soon set upon by Otungs or Heruls.”
    â€œThere are too many, they are too close,” said Tuvo. “Farewell, dear friend.”
    Julian swung the rifle about, assessing the proximity of the beasts, and then, selecting the closest, that which Tuvo had earlier noted, which was presumably the most aggressive and most likely to suddenly hasten forward, pressed the trigger.
    The beast exploded in fire and blood; the snow was melted for yards about, where it had crouched; the cold, clear night air, bright with sparks and drifting, scattered, flaming hair; was freighted, befouled, with the ugly, sweet stench of incinerated tissue.
    â€œThey do not feed!” said Tuvo. “They approach.”
    â€œSo, farewell, dear friend,” said Julian.
    â€œIaachus is triumphant,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
    â€œI have one more charge,” said Julian.
    â€œExpend it,” said Tuvo.
    â€œIt is for Nika,” said Julian.
    â€œNo, Master!” she screamed, looking into the short, wide muzzle of the rifle.
    â€œI will not have you fed upon by ravening beasts,” said Julian. “You will not be torn to pieces, and eaten alive. I will spare you that.”
    â€œNo,