Chapter 36 The Toxins
In the shadowed depths of the southern stronghold, Vargus sat on his bone throne while the cloaked man entered through the concealed rear passage. The cloaked man carried a heavy wooden crate, which he set on the stone table between them.
Vargus leaned forward. “What have you brought?”
The cloaked man pried open the crate, revealing rows of sleek, black-barreled firearms nestled in straw packing. “Fifty rifles. Each holds twelve shots before reloading. Range twice that of any bow. The shipment is complete.”
Vargus lifted one rifle, turning it in his hands. “Enough to change the shape of a battle.”
“Enough to take the north,” the cloaked man said. “Fernando remains weak. The soul bond that saved him now threatens to destroy him. His wolf fights the connection. The pack fractures under divided loyalties. This is the moment to strike.”
Vargus set the rifle down. “An open assault risks uniting them against us.”
“We do not need an open assault,” the cloaked man replied. “We need them broken before our banners rise.”
Vargus reached beneath the throne and produced three small glass bottles, each filled with a thick, dark liquid that swirled slowly within. He placed them on the table.
“These will ensure it,” Vargus said. “The contents weaken a wolf from within. Muscle failure. Slowed reflexes. Pain that lingers without visible wounds. Add one bottle to the water supplies or food stores of their patrols and key warriors. It spreads quickly, undetectable until it takes hold.”
The cloaked man examined the bottles. “And the third?”
“Deliver it to Alberto,” Vargus said. “Every injury he suffers, Fernando feels in full. Poison him directly, and you poison the Alpha without firing a shot.”
The cloaked man nodded. “When do we move?”
“Three days from now,” Vargus said. “Distribute the first two bottles to their patrols and storehouses. Ensure the traitor council members open the eastern gate at dawn. By midday, our forces will be inside the keep.”
“The rifles will be distributed to our vanguard,” the cloaked man said. “They will clear the walls before the main assault.”
Vargus smiled. “Then the north falls without a prolonged fight.”
Later that night, Samael entered the training ground, a wide, packed-earth yard surrounded by torch staves. Moonlight cast long shadows across the weapon racks and sparring circles. Alberto stood alone in one of the circles, practicing a sequence of strikes and blocks with a wooden training sword, his movements precise but lacking power.
Samael approached, drawing a similar weapon from the nearest rack. “You are training alone.”
Alberto lowered the sword and wiped sweat from his brow. “I need to learn to defend myself.”
Samael pointed his sword at the circle. “Spar with me.”
Alberto nodded and took position. They circled once, then Samael attacked. His strikes came fast and controlled, forcing Alberto back step by step. Alberto blocked where he could but left openings that Samael exploited without mercy. A sharp thrust to the ribs drove Alberto to one knee, followed by a sweep that knocked the training sword from his hand.
Samael extended a hand to pull him up. “You fight like someone waiting to be saved.”
Alberto took the hand and stood. “Because I always have. I cannot connect to a wolf. Every time I need to fight, I have to rely on others. I want to change that.”
Samael sheathed his training sword. “You want training?”
“Yes,” Alberto said. “Show me how to survive without waiting for rescue.”
Samael considered him for a moment, then reached into a pouch at his belt and withdrew a small, unmarked glass bottle containing a clear, viscous liquid. He held it out.
“Take this,” Samael said. “Drink the entire contents three days from now, in the morning.”
Alberto took the bottle. “What is it?”
“A draught to force a temporary connection to your wolf spirit,” Samael replied. “It will break through the barrier that keeps you separated from your beast.”
Alberto turned the bottle in his hand. “What will it do?”
“It will hurt,” Samael said. “The pain will be severe. Every suppressed instinct will surge forward at once, as if you are shifting for the first time after years of suppression. But it will allow your spirit to touch the wolf within you, even briefly.”
“And that will help Fernando?”
Samael nodded. “The soul bond requires two complete spirits. Right now, his wolf senses only emptiness where yours should be and tries to sever the connection. If you can manifest even a partial wolf spirit, the bond stabilizes. His beast will stop fighting it.”
Alberto closed his fingers around the bottle. “How long will the connection last?”
“A few hours at most,” Samael said. “Enough to convince his wolf that the bond is whole. After that, the barrier will suppress it again, but the immediate threat of severance will pass.”
Alberto looked at the bottle, then back at Samael. “Will you train me through the effects?”
“I will be there,” Samael said. “You will need someone to keep you from tearing yourself apart.”
Alberto nodded. “Thank you.”
Samael picked up a second training sword and tossed it to him. “Then stop standing there. If you want to learn to fight without relying on others, we begin now.”
Alberto caught the sword and stepped back into the circle. “Show me.”
Samael raised his weapon. “First lesson: never let your enemy dictate the distance.”
They resumed sparring, Samael correcting Alberto’s stance and timing with each exchange. “Keep your weight forward. Do not lean back to block. If you give ground, you lose control.”
Alberto absorbed the instruction, repeating strikes until his arms trembled. “Again.”
Samael obliged, pushing him through sequences of attacks and counters. “You cannot rely on strength you do not have. Use position. Angle your body so their force works against them.”
They continued until Alberto’s movements slowed from exhaustion. He lowered the sword, breathing hard. “I understand.”
Samael sheathed his weapon. “You will need more than understanding. Three days from now, when you drink that draught, you will have to fight through pain most wolves never endure. If you want to protect yourself and stabilize the bond, you train every moment until then.”
“I will,” Alberto said. “Every day.”
Samael nodded. “Then we begin at dawn.”