Then Kalus felt the presence of Death like a grim truth, or a sinister shadow eclipsing his soul, till all he could feel was a raw, animal terror. And finally in his desperation he missed badly and slipped down on one knee, and Shar-hai rushed in and tore at the back of his calf before he could whirl the sword's hilt, with his elbows hooked, and strike him feebly and too far in the arc of the swing across the jaw. And still Shar-hai was nearly upon him before he could thrust the weapon between them, holding the top of the blade with his other hand which now bled with a sharp pain. And as the wolf stepped back and began to turn, the tortured muscles at the back of his leg made it hard to stand. But he knew he must stand, and he still had a little courage left. So he rose and faced his foe, who was through with running, and tried to aim a blow at his head; but his hands would not stop shaking. So he made one last swoop and ran in the direction it carried him, and for all his shame at leaving Akar his one thought was to break free of the circle and run, so hard and so far..... But Shar-hai rushed up behind him, and his teeth found their mark in the soft flesh and tendon at the back of his knee. Kalus reeled and fell forward, the sword flying from his grasp. And he knew it was the end. He covered his head with his hands and cried out, and waited for the rush of tearing, yellow teeth. * Shar-hai stood for a moment catching his breath, stood glowering over the man-child whose weapon he had truly feared. Not for nothing had the hyena bitch warned him of men. This death he would not savor. It must be swift and final. He thought he heard a rustle behind him, and one of his guard spoke in alarm. He turned his head as the point of a spear, wielded without passion but with skill and fell purpose, split his shoulders precisely and buried itself in his heart. * Trembling with fear, Kalus opened his eyes slowly. Why had Shar-hai not finished him? Why was he still alive? The first thing he saw was the body of his foe, large even in death, lying on its side, the shaft deeply embedded. But the next thing he saw puzzled him still more, was yet stranger. He saw the hunched and grizzled form of Barabbas standing not five yards away, looking at him with tears as large as droplets running down his cheeks. In all his years, Kalus had never seen him cry. But that was not quite true. Something in the nerve-heightened sense of the moment, and in the strong man's broken expression, brought home with sudden clarity the memory of a day that lay buried among the horrors of a past he had tried to forget. The day of his father's death.