The roar of war coming from the forest vanished as Athelstan and his party neared Dunalastair Castle and a new sound began to dominate the air. A metallic clatter interspersed with the fierce howls and hissing of fighting clansmen could be heard booming from the open windows of the towers like a demonic choir. Firmin gestured for the soldiers to split as they lined the castle wall on either side of the towering doorway. The soldiers drew their weapons and steeled their nerves in anxious anticipation. Suddenly the sound of distant hooves began to draw closer to the door, accompanied by the anguished yelps of an injured beast. Firmin set his ear to the cold wood.

Louder.

Louder still, until the noise resembled the thunderous charge of an advancing army.

An enormous figure burst through the door like a berserk Carlsyle bull, sending fragments of wood and steel out into the night. Tormod, the Great Stag had emerged, violently whipping his head to remove the pulverised remains of the wolf he had used as a battering ram. He did not even notice the soldiers pinned to the wall behind him as he bound into the deep forest. Not a moment had passed when the two Kerr Chieftains leapt through the scar left in the door by the stag in blind pursuit.

"HALT!" Athelstan screamed at the wolves. Consumed by the thrill of the hunt, Bocan continued the chase without hesitation. Droch stopped in his tracks and snarled at the King disapprovingly.

"Grr...the stag carries the wife and child of Duncan," he said through slobbering jaws. "We must feast on their flesh... grr."

"My Commander will go with you... the heir of Clan Donnachaidh cannot be allowed to escape." He looked in Firmin's direction, "Go with the wolf immediately... and bring me the head of his wife and child... the wolves can have the rest."

"NO," snapped the wolf. "Grr... he will only slow me down." Droch's eyes conveyed his hatred for Firmin, and his tone, the desperation to set off after the stag.

"THAT IS AN ORDER!" commanded Athelstan.

"Grr... So be it," said Droch impatiently.

Firmin jumped on the back of the wolf, grabbing onto its thick coat. Droch growled from the weight of the Knight, before springing into action. A trail of dust lingered in the air as the pair dissolved into the darkness quicker than an arrow piercing flesh.

The wolf relentlessly dashed through the trees, the scent of the stag painted an odorous misty trail through the forest for it to follow. Firmin despaired as they flashed by his soldiers, disarrayed and in desperate need of help. It was too late for many, the Lynx feasting on their warm corpses. He knew there was nothing he could do, gritting his teeth in an attempt to suppress his urge to protect the men he lead into battle.

A Donnachaidh Lynx sprung forth from the darkness to ambush the wolf without warning. Droch athletically jumped and twisted in the air, ejecting Firmin into the path of the oncoming attacker. They collided and rumbled to the root-infested ground, the Lynx quickly recovered and slashed maliciously at Firmin who was unresponsive.

Droch turned briefly and grinned revealing his maniacal fangs, "Grr... We'll be seeing you... Commander." He slipped away deeper into the woods, leaving Firmin to his fate.

*****

Athelstan and the Knights surged through the hole in the entranceway, following the noise to the great hall. Godwin, as Knight enforcer, leads the way in Firmin's absence. He held out his hand to halt the men as they drew close to the doors of the great hall.

Everything went silent.

The ringing of steel, the howling of wolves, the hissing of Lynx, nothing. Godwin pointed ahead with a trembling hand towards the three Kerr Clansmen hunched over and impaled in the oak door by an array of swords and spears. Blood poured from their wounds and flooded the floor below them. They cautiously entered the room to find the wolf Chieftan, Sgreuch and the Clan Chief of Donnachaidh, Duncan locked in a face-off. Brutalised Wolves and Lynx filled the spaces between the overturned tables, benches and ruined feast. Nothing was left unturned. No one was left alive.

The wolf Chieftain broke Duncan's gaze momentarily and looked back to Athelstan and his Knights standing in the doorway of the great hall. "Leave us... Duncan is mine," he demanded. "Find Kerr... he is waiting in the woods behind the castle." He turned once more and looked up at his ancestors who hung from the wall above the towering Lynx, bowing his head in solidarity. The knights looked like lifeless steel shells as they witnessed the wolf bark at them, each of its four legs the width and height of a powerful man. More frighteningly still was the figure of the Lynx which rose above that of the wolf. Hellfire burned brightly in its eyes.

Duncan breathed heavily as his face dripped with fresh blood, bearing his pronged teeth blunted from crushing his enemies' bones. His body had been savaged by the claws and fangs of the wolves, his thick fur torn from the flesh; but he stood powerfully as though he was fresh to the fight. Only Sgreuch remained in his way.

Quicker than the dash of a Macleod charge, the Chief of the Lynx dug his claws into the ground, splitting the cobbles beneath him and pushed off to meet his opponent.

The Knights cowered behind the door as the roar of the beasts collided, and sent shockwaves through the castle. Soon, only one would emerge from the great hall; the other would complete the tapestry of death that decorated the barely visible floor.

"Godwin, find Kerr and the other wolves at all costs," said Athelstan desperately, pinning the Knight enforcer against the wall. "They must advance towards Kinloch and aid the imperial army in the woods... The outcome of this battle will be decided there."

Athelstan ripped the crossbow from his knight's hand. "W...W...What are you going to do my King?" said Godwin anxiously.

"If the Kerr Chieftain cannot finish the job then I will ensure the Lynx does not leave this Castle." Athelstan's words were resolute as he fearlessly ordered his retinue out into the darkness once more.

"My Liege," said Godwin invigorated from Athelstan's seemingly unwavering bravery, even at the threshold of death. "We will meet again at the dawn of our glorious victory," he said whilst clenching an armoured fist to his steel breastplate.

Athelstan watched as the Knights disappeared one after the other. His grip on the crossbow grew tighter as each of the soldiers faded like the faltering facade of his bravery. The harsh reality of death loomed heavily on his chest. It was a feeling which was unfamiliar to the King, only experiencing it once before... the moment the druid had revealed his prophecy in the library. He began to wonder if fear and rage had clouded his judgement and if the prophecy had been fabricated by the druid to force his hand. "Maybe dreams are just that?" He peered around the corner as the deathmatch continued in the hall.

He watched as they arose on their hind legs biting and clawing at each other's necks. The Lynx sank its fangs deeper and grasped the wolf with its powerful forelegs, throwing his opponent against the uneven stones that made up the wall.

"CRAACK!" the noise of fracturing bones crawled up to the farthest reaches of the ceiling.

Sgreuch lay limply in the rubble before stumbling to his feet, his legs (like four great pillars) shook beneath him. He began to circle Duncan who dominated the centre of the hall.

"How does it feel to know that your Clansmen are dead, and your wife and child a snack for my fellow Chieftains?" Sgreuch taunted the Lynx.

Duncan remained silent and composed, his eyes fixated on the wolf.

"The Imperial Army will put the Donnachaidhs to their knees," the wolf snarled.

"Athelstan?" The name escaped Duncan's mouth. "What has Kerr done?"

The wolf grinned, revealing its blood-stained fangs. "We have allied with the crown...Kerr and the wolves will devour any remnants of your pathetic kin."

Duncan looked disheartened at the revelation, lowering his head in seeming defeat. Sgreuch saw his opening and leapt with murderous intent towards Duncan.

As the wolf Chieftain bore down on the Lynx, an overpowering light filled the room, consuming Sgreuch and Duncan who disappeared in its wake. The King recoiled reflexively from the potency of the blazing golden glow as he heard the agonising howl of a slain beast.

The wolf looked to be suspended in the air as the light withdrew inwards to its source. Duncan stood in his human form holding his greatsword in both hands above his head, the entrails of Sgreuch slivered down the length of his blade and wrapped around the guard.

Thus, the wolf Chieftain Sgreuch perished, cast aside by the Chief of the Donnachaidh like rotten fruit. Duncan fell to his knees, letting out an almighty roar to mark his triumph.

Athelstan emerged from the safety of the solid door with the crossbow aimed at the only living being left in the hall. "DUNCAN!" he screamed as his finger grabbed for the trigger, causing the loaded arrow to fly...

"THUD."