A child, white and innocent and
soft. It had fled before him on sight, flying first down, and then up,
a long bare hill. He pursued it in ecstasy, in torment. Closer and
closer, his body growing weaker, almost sexually, his legs sometimes
moving in place, as his desire became more desperate. He was almost
upon it when---
A terrible Angel of Death stood before him, wrapped in a cold and deadly
light, a flaming blue weapon in its hands. He tried to stop, but
something pushed him forward, irresistible: driven like a piece of meat
onto the stake. He cried out in a voice that was almost human.....
Upon waking he had heard yet again the hoarse words of the hyena bitch
who bore him, as she lay dying, abandoned, in the snow.
'Wreak your vengeance well, son of Shar, and fear not the wrath of
your brothers. For no creature of the wild shall ever slay you.
Neither river, nor mountain, nor lion; but only a man. Beware the dark
masters who walk erect, with the eyes that burn of a world that will
never be.....' And he had raised his head in spite of himself, alone
in the night, and howled his anguish to the wind.
But here, now, there was Akar to deal with. It all seemed so pointless.
For try as he might, he could not make his hatred flare against him as
it had against Shaezar.
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