And finally, after an endless, meaningless search, he thought he had found it, the thing he hungered for. 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. They were much alike. But yes, he would kill him. And kill again, until the emptiness of his soul had been sated, or had itself been devoured. He emerged with his guard into the clearing that stood before the southern rise of the promontory. There he was met by the remaining males of Shaezar's pack. There were only four: an aging outrider, two yearlings and a one-eyed five year old. Seeing Akar standing straight and proud above them, the four were faced with a difficult choice. If there had been but one more seasoned male among them, perhaps they could fight. But as it was they stood no real chance against the monstrous half-breed and his treacherous companions, themselves both large and fierce. Akar looked down on them with compassion, for their dilemma had been his before them: whether to serve a hated leader, or to make noble but vain rebellion against him. The hackles of the guard were raised, and there was scarcely contained rage in their throats. Shar-hai addressed the wolf. 'You have issued your challenge, small one. Will you remain there above us, or come and meet your death in the arena?' 'We will do battle soon enough, my unnatural brother. But first I will speak to those whose souls remain.' And there was in his voice something so solemn that it stilled the fires of the two, and granted him with Shar-hai this last request. He spoke in a dialect they only half understood.