Adalgisus looked back, saw Lucilla at a gallop behind him leading the other horse. Lucilla shook her head and then Adalgisus spurred his mount to the best speed possible out across the open country-side and away.

Once alone, Stella lay quietly on Lucilla's discarded mantle, listening to the dying sounds of carnage in the church. She was numb, the pain oozing away slowly in the silence. She was so frightened that she didn't feel fear any longer. Sud-denly Ludolf was bending over her.

"Mother," Ludolf said, touching her face.

"Oh, my dear." She caught his hand. Dulcinia glanced around the room. "It's a pigsty," Stella whispered.

"Cold, empty, without even a lock on the door. We were offered no comfort at all."

Ludolf nodded and tried to gather Stella into his arms. She made the most dreadful sound that either of them had ever heard.

"Oh, God," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Stella whispered. "Don't, don't touch me. Please, please, just give me a few moments. I'm sure I'll be better, but please don't touch me now."Dulcinia went down on one knee beside Stella. She pulled off her own veil and made a pillow and slid it under Stella's head. Stella was still curled on the stone floor. Then Ludolf covered her with his mantle.

Dulcinia explored Stella's abdomen very gently with her fingers. It was swollen tight and hard.

"Lucilla?" she asked softly.

"Lucilla made them go with her, thank God," Stella whis-pered. "I was afraid-afraid they would touch me again. They wanted to take me with them. I'm sorry, my son. When I move, I'm in so much pain.

Please, give me some time to get myself together."

Stella smiled the shadow of a smile. "I'm sure in a little while I'll be able to ride."

Ludolf stroked her hair. "Yes, Mother. Take all the time you need. I'm in command here. You're perfectly safe. Now, what happened?"

Stella looked distressed. "Adalgisus came. My fault, I wrote him. He wanted Lucilla but took me hostage, too. What he planned I don't know. Don't know even if he had a plan- so many of these warriors are so drunken and foolish..."

Stella closed her eyes. She seemed weary.

Dulcinia had never seen a more terrible look than the one Ludolf had on his face. He was cradling his mother's head and shoulders in his arms, trying to keep her from the cold floor. A moment later Stella opened her eyes again.

"In the night, they came in the night-"

"Who, Mother?" Ludolf whispered.

"Adalgisus, Eberhardt, and Dagobert..." Stella seemed in very deep distress.

"Don't bother to say it, Mother," Ludolf whispered. "I know what they wanted. Don't distress yourself by saying it."

"They called us whores-"

To Dulcinia the pain in Stella's voice was simply incon-ceivable. She whispered, "No," and turned away.

Her hand was on Ludolf's arm. She felt him flinch slightly as her fin-gers bit into his flesh. They were both kneeling by Stella.

"Lucilla said not to fight. I was too small, they'd hurt me. But I fought. You will tell your father I fought, won't you? Please? Tell him I fought. Love you... my son."

The last words were spoken so softly they were almost not even a whisper, only a breath. And they were the last words Stella ever said.

Dulcinia still had the opium and valerian Lucilla had given her. She mixed them in some good wine, then warmed it. Stella was able to take a small amount of the medicine, and after that she seemed to find some physical comfort. Ludolf and Dulcinia were able to move her gently to one of the bed platforms, suitably padded with feather ticks and blankets looted from Dagobert's stores. In fact, Ludolf received so many bed coverings he had, in the end, to turn them away.

Stella had been deeply loved and not only by her husband and son. There wasn't a mean bone in her body and she had done thousands of kind deeds among her husband's people. Had Ludolf not restrainedhis men, they would have put every living soul in the monastery to the sword, but he behaved with almost superhuman restraint. Of the culprits, Dagobert was already dead. He was identified by his jewelry and weapons near the stable door. The prior who tried to block the entrance to the monastery Ludolf's men hanged without bothering to ask permission. As for Eberhardt, Lucilla had left him badly wounded.

Someone, persons unknown, cut his throat before he was identified. Apparently this was done simply as a necessary housekeeping chore after they finished off the wounded in the church.

The church burned brightly, vigorously, with a roaring blaze that rapidly spread to the all the other buildings except the guest house. The monks, seeing the prior's fate, fled. No one came to make even an attempt to save the buildings. Lu-dolf's men did only enough to ensure they were able to re-move any and all objects having the slightest value. Once the place was thoroughly looted, the fire was guided or cheered on by the very vengeful company for whom it had some en-tertainment value.

Dulcinia stood in the doorway with Ludolf and watched the place burn.

"Yes," he said softly. "I have sent for my father. I hope he comes soon. She hasn't long."

"What now?"

"We will want you to speak to the pope for us, and Rufus. Neither my father nor I is a turncoat, but we can no longer maintain our allegiance to the Lombard king. He has insulted us too egregiously, injured us too deeply; moreover, if I get my hands on Adalgisus, I'll kill him. There is no going back now."

Ansgar rode in near dawn. Stella never spoke again but she seemed to smile when she saw him. She died not long after he arrived-in her husband's arms.

The bear dropped back, cursing Hugo's feckless abuse of his body. It was not nearly as strong as the bear wanted it to be. He was faced with complicated logistical problems. If he fought as a human, he faced getting Hugo's body killed. If he fought as a bear, he was in a much superior position, but even he couldn't destroy six men and three dogs. And one way or another, Hugo's body would die anyway.

They were coming and getting closer. He took Armine aside. "They are too many, even for me."

"If worse comes to worst, abandon the rest of us and take Chiara. I trust you more than those fools."

Armine indicated the two men escorting him.

Considering what Armine knew about him, the bear de-cided this was a high compliment. Just then they topped a rise and the bear saw that they would descend into another of the small river valleys that threaded through the countryside. The mist still clung to the swampy ground and covered the water. The sun was up around them and shining brightly on the hill-tops, but it had to yet to penetrate the sometimes deep water-cut passages between them.

"I'm going to try an ambush down there." He gestured toward the mist. "If necessary, I'll spend this carcass I'm wearing. I can fight on even if it is ostensibly killed. And after that there are other things I can do."

The bear gave another one of those hollow laughs he was so fond of, one of the blood-chilling kind.

"Stop that," Armine said. "Save it for our pursuers. I am sufficiently frightened of you."

The bear laughed again, this time sounding more human. Chiara dropped back to join them.

"We're being followed, aren't we?" She sounded frightened."Yes," her father said.

"You were discussing what to do about it, weren't you?"

"Yes," he said again.

"Well, tell me something," she shouted. "I can see by the expression on your faces it's bad, isn't it? Are we going to die?"

Armine looked away and wouldn't meet her eyes. He was pinch faced and haggard.

"Listen to me, Chiara," the bear said. "We're in a tight spot, but no matter what happens, I'm going to be with you. Remember, I can't die, and when you need me, I'll be there. So, no matter what happens, keep on going. Don't stop strug-gling. I will always come and I will help you."

He reached over and patted her small hand clutching the horse's reins. "Now, you must promise me something."

"What?" she asked.

"No matter what happens, you keep on riding. Don't look back. Just keep on going."

Chiara nodded.

"No matter what happens. No matter what you see or hear."

"Yes," she said.

They had almost reached the wetlands surrounding the river. The bear drew Hugo's sword.

"I'll stand with you," Armine said. "I can use a sword. I've fought brigands a time or two."

"Don't be put off then by anything you see," the bear said.

Ahead a small ruined fortification on the riverbank loomed up in a jumble of stone through the white mist hanging over the water. The bear and Armine turned their horses into the ruins, picking their way among the stone blocks.

Chiara and the two men who were her escorts continued along the road toward the bridge.

Regeane caught up to the six men and the dogs following Chiara and her father. The wolf laid her ears back and tried to get the woman to flee. She wanted no part of six armed men, but the three dogs were what really frightened her. To the wolf they were simply insane. Their socialization process had been so distorted by human cruelty that in hatred of all things, human and animal, they would kill at once anything within reach of their tethers.

The wolf was forced on by her human companion, but she was sick with fear. The mercenaries in the king's employ were no better than the dogs. They poisoned the air around them with an aura of horror.

The stink of cold iron, dirty hot skin, and maleness permeated their clothing.

The male musk was not something she disliked. She had known within a few weeks of their marriage what her hus-band's mood was whenever he approached her. Warm desire caressed her senses before he touched her, but this was the male heat raised to warning reek. These men meant murder, and the fact that one of the victims was a young girl only added spice to their savagery. They were in essence being paid for doing what they loved.Iron, wood, smoke, desire, rage, and a distant hint of old despair all combined to make the wolf want to flee. But the woman shook off her midnight companion's misgivings. She left the road and entered the brush. It was muddy but as long as she stayed on grass, the footing was not too bad. During the chase in the town, she had discovered just how fast a young virgin wolf was. She extended herself and paced the hunters. It was easy. But now what? Six men, all well armed, the dog handler, and three wolfhounds.

No-these were not wolfhounds but the more ancient breed-the dogs of war.

Born and bred to kill. It was said that Caesar himself once was struck with admiration for a mastiff belonging to the Gauls that, clad in chain mail, guarded his master's wagon for two days after his master fell in battle. Caesar tried to capture it alive, but it ran onto the spears of Caesar's legionnaires, preferring to perish rather than surrender. As the dogs, so the people. Many perished rather than surrender.

These dogs were descendants of this dangerous breed. The female wolf is sacred among wolves, but these dogs would give no quarter, even to a she-wolf.

The land had begun to drop. At the top of the hill, Regeane heard the shouts of the mercenaries as they sighted their quarry: Armine, his daughter, the two soldiers of his es-cort... and Hugo.

Hugo? Regeane thought. I'm not going to risk my neck to rescue Hugo. Still, she continued to pace the party of sol-diers, watching as their prey vanished into the mist lingering near the river.

"Beware ambush," the dog handler said to the rest. "I think they may take their chance now. If they don't, they may not get another."

"Loose the dogs," the captain of the soldiers cried.

The dog handler paused; he cracked his whip.

The three mastiffs strained against their collars. Two barked and snarled, jaws foam-flecked with rage; the third was more quiet and looked as if the long distance it had come running alongside the horses might be taking its toll.

The whip cracked again. Then the dog handler dropped the leashes.

Regeane lunged forward along with the dogs. She realized to her shock she could outrun them, and possibly run them down. She crossed the road in front of the mercenaries, a swift-moving, gauzy shadow. One of them flung a spear at her but it flew far wide of its mark. Then she was in the thick weeds and brush, running just behind the last dog. He out-weighed her, so she was tentative.

The dog ahead of her leaped a log.

Fear held her back from the pursuit. In the wolf she felt the sense of a precipice. The fear that she was somehow running along the edge of a steep cliff and if she fell, the conse-quences might be... what?

The dog was just ahead. She had only to increase her pace slightly. She'd learned from watching Maeniel. He was born knowing how to use his fangs.

The thug dog had the spiked collar that was supposed to defend him from wolves, but mangling a leg might do as well. She closed with the dog, her fangs sinking into the haunch. The femur that propels the hind legs of every creature from dinosaur to man was her target.

The dog screamed. It shook her. She had not known an animal could sound so like a human. The dog was down, thrashing in circles, snapping at its nearly severed hind limb, spraying blood in circles around its frenzied body.Suddenly Remingus was with her again. He carried the ter-rible slashing sword of the first legionnaires.

Single-edged, its weight propelled it through skin tissue and even bone. In the hand of a strong man it could quite literally chop a human body in half at one blow. The ghastliness of the wounds it made were legend. It beheaded the dog so quickly even the wolf had not time to blink.

"Go," he said to Regeane. "The battle awaits you."

Above his voice she heard the sounds of hooves on the road; the mercenaries were coming up fast behind the dogs. The bear hadn't picked the best place to make his stand. The ruins were overgrown, thickly overgrown, with briars, ivy, and other creepers. The proximity of the river offering a steady water supply guaranteed lush growth.

The ground was honeycombed with pitfalls for horses and men alike. The two leading dogs and four of the mercenaries came out of the mist to face Armine and the bear at the same time. The horse the bear was riding shied violently as the two killer dogs attacked.

The bear swung Hugo's sword, an arc of silver light, and killed the first, but his mount went down and the second dog lunged across the horse's fallen body for his throat and suc-ceeded in sinking a mouthful of sharp teeth into his arm. Anything Hugo's body could feel, so could the bear, and he let out an inhuman howl of pain.

But Regeane was coming across the dog's back. I am saving Hugo? was her astonished thought, but the momen-tum of her charge carried her forward. She tried for the top of the spine at the nape of the neck, but the spiked collar turned her assault and her wolf canines slipped on the dog's skull. She went tumbling over the horse. The dog, distracted by her assault, let go of Hugo and lunged for the fallen wolf.

The woman never remembered getting her feet under her or knew why her nightmare sister undertook the maneuver that saved her life, but she came up under the dog's chin. It died of suffocation before blood loss took its toll.

Armine nailed the first soldier out of the mist with a stop thrust under his diaphragm. But even before he could get his sword clear, two more were upon him. Instead of backing his horse, he turned it broadside to the pair and they crashed into him. All three went down, a screaming mass of flying hooves and struggling men. Armine, despite his age, was up first and took the opportunity to kill another of his assailants with a thrust, this time through the throat. He closed with the third and knew his own doom.

The man had a sword, a shield, and was armored.

Armine had only his sword. His further thrusts were easily turned, then the shield slammed into his body.

The wind went out of him in a whoosh. He staggered back, knowing he was going to die. He couldn't even run. He was struggling knee-deep in the twisting creepers covering the tumbled ruins.

The mercenary lunged forward to spit him on his sword. Armine saw the eyes glow behind the man's legs, and so frightening were they that he almost shouted a warning. Then the wolf's jaws closed over the mercenary's leg. He wore greaves; this blunted her fangs, but the soldier's tibia snapped with a crack like a dry stick. He half turned to swipe at the wolf with his sword, and Armine, his battle rage at flood tide, beheaded him.

But a second later, the captain of the mercenary band loomed over him. He bestrode the most terrible weapon of all, a battle-trained charger. One forehoof caught Armine's sword arm, and both bones snapped. Oddly, he felt no pain, but the sword fell to the ground from his limp fingers. The second hoof slammed into his shoulder, snapping his collar-bone and humerus at the shoulder, and Armine went down. The wolf tried for a hamstring. That's what it was-a try. The charger's heels lashed out.The wolf found herself airborne. She landed hard, slipping down between two large stone blocks among the twisting tangle of vines. She tasted blood and knew one of her ribs had broken and pierced a lung.

But the wolf washed away the frightened woman in a flood of red rage, and she scrambled to her feet.

The other mercenary had joined his captain, but the bear had abandoned Hugo's broken body. As bear he reared up in front of the charger and then made a cruel mistake. He took a swipe at the man, but the mercenary had his shield up. The bear's paw ruined it, crumpling the steel sheath, the leather and wood under it. The charger was trained to attack. As the man on his back threw away the ruined shield and seized his sword two-handed, the big horse reared in front of the upright bear. Another swipe of the bear's claw caught him in the chest, but the horse was armored as well as the man; a corset of scale mail covered the animal's sides and chest. The bear's mighty claws slipped harmlessly across it.

Then one of the animal's steel-shod forehooves slammed down hard into the bear's skull. The other shattered his shoulder. A second later the mercenary's spear drove through the bear's body.

The bear sensed that unless he forsook his corporeal form he was doomed, but he disdained to yield.

Better, far better, to go out fighting.

The bear felt a violent shock as the mercenary's sword carved away his whole left paw.