by Ramy Vance
He plucked it from the air and smelled it. “Feels good to actually get some fresh air. Smells better than the Red Lion and that elf city.”
Sandy nudged her horse to catch up with Suzuki, and Stew quickened his pace to match Sandy’s. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting the elvish city to be so…city-ish,” she said. “It was a bit disappointing after everything I’d read about them.”
Suzuki’s interest was sparked. He hadn’t thought to look into the history of any of the other races fighting in the MERCs. “What did you read about the elves?”
“Not much. I only started a few histories. Just to go along with all the elf magic theory I’ve been reading. Context, you know. One of the things that I had read, though, was that they had a vast empire back when none of the other realms even knew about each other. The elves were the only realm that managed to establish contact with the rest. They also had a huge spy network, and kept tabs on everyone else for thousands of years. But something happened, and their empire collapsed. I haven’t been able to find out why. I’m not even sure the elves know.”
“Fucking wild,” Stew said. “All that history just lost.”
Suzuki and Sandy stared at Stew in disbelief. “That almost sounds like insightful empathy,” Suzuki joked.
“Fuck off. Just because I’m the very definition of manliness and valor doesn’t mean I’m emotionless. It doesn’t matter who you are, losing your history sounds tough. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to not know anything about where you came from.”
Suzuki nodded in agreement. He was preparing to launch into a lengthy lecture on the different groups of humans who had watched their history extinguish before their eyes when they reached the crest of a hill and he saw the ranch they were looking for in the valley below. At least he thought it was the ranch. Outside of the dozen or so horses grazing out back, it looked like a simple log cabin in the middle of nowhere.
They rode down to the ranch. It was little more than a small wooden affair off the side of the road, and Suzuki checked his HUD again to make sure they were in the right place. It seemed like an awful lot of trouble for a shack.
A large field of red wildflowers stretched out behind a meadow where dozens of horses grazed. As the Mundanes got closer, Suzuki could see that his initial appraisal of the horses and the meadow was wrong.
Those were not horses. As the Mundanes closed the distance between them, Suzuki could see that the creatures walking between the rows of what smelled like entrails were something else entirely.
The creatures were feathered and stood on two legs like ostriches. Their beaks were massive, shaped like axes, and cruelly sharp. There were at least a dozen of them meandering around.
Suzuki pinched his nose to try to block out the overpowering stench of death. “What the fuck are those?” he wondered aloud.
Fred unwrapped around Suzuki’s mind. Somehow, Suzuki picked up that whatever was going to come out of Fred’s mouth was going to be snide. They are axbeaks, human, Fred chided. They are native to Middang3ard. I would have assumed that your exhaustive and useless knowledge of fantasy would have made that obvious.
I’ve never seen one before.
Your level of ignorance is never short of inspiring.
Suzuki snapped his horse’s reins, and the horse galloped toward the stable.
A dwarven woman was standing outside. She waved Suzuki over as he got closer to the stable. When Suzuki jumped off his horse, the dwarf took the reins.
“I hope you don’t plan on dismounting like that with my babies,” the dwarf said. She spat, then wiped the spittle from her face as she eyed Suzuki with suspicion. “Name’s Gwen. Those bad boys back there are my babies. You better treat them right.”
One of the axbeaks looked up from its feeding trough, and that was when the Mundanes realized that they weren’t eating hay, not unless hay bled red and was full of entrails.
The axbeak walked over to Suzuki, its head bobbing like a bird of prey as a piece of intestine hung out of his beak like a worm. When it close enough to Suzuki, it snapped at him. The crack of its beak let Suzuki know that it could have taken off his nose if it had wanted to.
Gwen came up behind Suzuki and pushed him out of the way. She petted the axbeak, whispering a soft cooing song under her breath to it. “Riding an axbeak isn’t as easy as riding a horse. Those horses will listen to anyone wearing a HUD. My babies though, they only listen when you’ve earned it.”
“So why did José send us here to pick them up? Why couldn’t we just take horses the rest of the way?”
“Nothing’s wrong with horses. But they ain’t axbeaks. You take a horse into a fight, and you got as much of a liability as if you had a kid. My axbeaks, now; those are just as trusty as a fucking ax. They’re lighter than horses too, which means they’re faster. They should cut your trip time in half.”
“If they’re so great, how come you don’t just give them to everyone then?” Stew asked.
Gwen reached into a pouch hanging on her side. She pulled out a severed orc arm and raised it to the closest axbeak. The axbeak reached over the fence and snapped the orc arm in half, catching one of the halves and instantly gobbling it down. “They’re tough to take care of,” Gwen said with a grin. “Gotta keep ‘em fed, lest that be your arm.”
Suzuki stepped forward and pulled out his coin purse. “Point made,” he said. “So how much do I owe you?”
“All you owe me is bringing them back in one piece. As for the rental fee, it’s on the house, courtesy of José. Thank him the next time you see him. And tell him Gwen says hi. Now let’s get you situated.”
Gwen led the Mundanes to the stable where the axbeaks were kept. She opened the fence and stepped beyond it before turning to the Mundanes and motioning for them to move slowly and to stay quiet. They all approached the closest creature. The bird was smaller than the rest around it. Gwen reached into her pouch, pulled out another piece of dismembered orc, and tossed it to the axbeak.
It snatched the bit of orc out of the air, threw it to the ground, and started to peck at it. Gwen looked at the Mundanes, sizing them up. She pointed at Stew. “This one will be good for Mr. Muscles over there,” she said before whistling shrilly.
Two more axbeaks trotted over to Sandy and Suzuki. The axbeak that came up to Sandy’s side nuzzled her face and nipped at her cheek, drawing blood. Sandy yelped and touched her face. As soon as she saw the blood, she smiled maniacally, cast Stoneskin, and headbutted the axbeak.
The axbeak stumbled backward before regaining its footing. Then it scratched at the ground as if it were preparing to charge. Sandy, still smiling gleefully, squared off with the axbeak and crouched. She moved first. Sandy dashed at the axbeak and tackled it to the ground as Gwen screamed in horror. The bird and Sandy tussled in the dirt, kicking up dust, as everyone watched.
Once the dust settled, Sandy had mounted the axbeak, and it reached back to nuzzle its beak against her chest.
Sandy slapped the axbeak’s rear, and it leapt the fence separating the different sections of the stable. “I think he likes me,” Sandy shouted.
Suzuki eyed his axbeak and approached it cautiously. The axbeak snorted loudly and pecked at the ground in what looked like irritation, but unlike Sandy’s bird, it didn’t attack. At least not yet.
Stew, meanwhile, was trying to grapple with his axbeak. The axbeak looked determined not to let Stew climb on. Out past the stables, Sandy was putting her axbeak through its paces.
Suzuki turned to Gwen, trying to hide how desperate he was. “How exactly am I supposed to get on this thing?”
Gwen was busy watching Sandy with her axbeak. “Huh? Oh,” Gwen murmured. “Just don’t be afraid. You gotta show ‘em that you’re not a wimp, so just get up on it.”
“OK,” he said and jumped on the axbeak, wrapping his arms around the beast’s neck. It tried to take off running, slinging Suzuki around, but he managed to pull himself up onto its back.
Suzuki was mid-self-congratulation
when the axbeak whipped its head around and tried to take a bite out of Suzuki’s face. He hit his HUD, and his helmet shimmered over his face. The axbeak hit the steel of his helmet with a heavy clank before turning its head suddenly and screeching. With that, the axbeak was off, vaulting over the fence and taking off after Sandy.
The axbeak was fast. It took everything that Suzuki had to keep holding onto the flimsy reins attached to the axbeak’s neck. Suzuki wanted to check how Stew was doing, but it was taking every bit of concentration he had to keep from falling off.
From behind him, he could hear Gwen laughing.
Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid, Suzuki repeated to himself. He clenched the reins tightly, dug his feet into the side of the axbeak, and pulled back on the reins. Hard.
The axbeak skidded across the grass and stumbled, but didn’t fall. Its head cocked back and forth like a bored pigeon. “I think I’m getting the hang of this,” Suzuki shouted as he finally looked back to see how Stew was doing.
Stew had mounted his axbeak, but the bird was refusing to vault over the fence. Gwen had opened the stable fence so that Stew and his axbeak could trot out. Stew gingerly snapped the reins, and the creature trotted off to catch up with Suzuki and Sandy.
It appeared that the barbarian had lucked out and gotten the most docile bird of the bunch.
Sometimes life just isn’t fair, Suzuki lamented.
Gwen closed the stable gate and climbed on top of it. “You take care of my babies, all right!”
Sandy petted her axbeak’s head and its rough tongue hung out of its mouth like a thirsty dog’s. “What do they eat?” Sandy asked.
“What won’t they eat is a better question.”
The Mundanes rode off, steering their axbeaks away from the stables with Sandy leading the pack, Suzuki struggling to keep up with her, and Stew trotting behind.
Stew cracked the reins and the bird screeched, tossing him to the ground. As Stew scrambled to get to his feet, the axbeak slashed at Stew with its beak. “Guys,” Stew shouted. “My bird is trying to fucking kill me!”
Sandy and Suzuki turned around and galloped back toward Stew. When Suzuki’s axbeak saw that there was open mutiny, it tossed Suzuki onto the ground as well. Sandy’s axbeak whined as if it were preparing to join in the fray.
She smacked it in the back of the head. The bird stared lovingly at her.
Stew was still struggling to get to his feet, as was Suzuki. The axbeaks were fast and much more vicious now that they were out of Gwen’s watchful gaze. Their beaks rose and fell with frightening speed. Both Stew and Suzuki were only able to narrowly avoid their attacks.
Fucking great, Suzuki thought to himself. We survive trolls and giants, and what does us in is a mutant ostrich.
Sandy pulled up beside Suzuki and Stew, her axbeak stomping its feet as if it were irritated at Suzuki’s lack of proficiency. Even if the axbeak wasn’t annoyed, Suzuki was thoroughly embarrassed. He could deal with being attacked. But by his own steed?
Finally managing to get to his feet, Suzuki and the axbeak locked into a death stare as they circled each other.
They circled twice before Suzuki’s axbeak dove forward, slashing with its face. Suzuki stepped to the side and got his arms around the bird. He squeezed as hard as he could and pulled down until the axbeak took a knee.
Then he slapped it in the face multiple times with his iron gauntlet-covered hand until it blinked its eyes rapidly in surprise. The bird cooed softly and leaned over for Suzuki to mount.
“Shit,” Suzuki said, “these things only respond to violence.”
“Sucks for Stew,” Sandy pointed out. “He’s as fangless as an earthworm.”
Stew was still struggling with his axbeak. He hadn’t managed to get to his feet and the axbeak was still coming after him. Suzuki figured that this was some kind of game for the birds. If it had really meant to hurt Stew, it probably would have chopped off his testicles by now.
Suzuki rode up to Stew’s axbeak and punched it in the face. The axbeak sidestepped and shook its head, then it whistled like a parakeet before flapping its wings and kneeling for Stew to mount.
Suzuki could hear Fred laughing internally. You think this is bad? Fred snorted. You should see them in the wild.
What’s a bunch of them called? Suzuki asked, directing his thoughts to Fred. A violence of axbeaks?
At that, the imp cackled. That was a good one, human. I’ll be sure to tell that one to my next human host.
So never, then, Suzuki shot back. You’ll never get to tell that joke, huh?
Suzuki could feel Fred contemplating this before saying, I like you, human. You were a good choice.
Stew, finally understanding that they needed to be rough with the axbeaks, punched his on the back of the head. It cooed. Shaking his head in disbelief, he cried out, “Who the hell thought it was a good idea to ride these things?”
Fred fielded that question, although because the imp was still inside Suzuki, only he could hear the answer. Dwarves tend to raise them, and since dwarves are not often riders themselves, they can have the detachment necessary to harshly train them for other riders. Still, I have seen a level of brutality between axbeaks and dwarves that would rival even the Dark One. The only difference is that the axbeaks seem to like it. Somewhat akin to your human BDSM relationships.
You know about BDSM? How did you—
Some of us have lived, Suzuki. Some of us have lived, Fred said with a cackle before withdrawing, leaving him alone, feeling like he was a constant source of pity and entertainment for his familiar.
Still, Fred had complimented him, so they were making baby steps.
Super tiny baby-fucking-steps.
The Mundanes traveled down the dirt road of the meadow for some time. Stew and Suzuki were still struggling to keep control of their steeds, but even Sandy was having trouble keeping hers on the road.
The axbeaks didn’t like walking on the beaten path, and if they were not forced to, they would happily wander off into the thick brush of the surrounding area.
Suzuki wondered what it was that the axbeaks found so interesting about the meadows around them. If they were natives of Middang3ard, it was possible that they had an innate understanding of the world. They probably felt much more comfortable than Suzuki taking the untrodden path.
Suzuki’s axbeak continually passed gas. It was a terrible smell of rotting eggs and old lima beans. The axbeak had been doing it for nearly half an hour. Stew’s mount did the same, and Suzuki felt like he was traveling with a noxious gas cloud hanging over his head. “These things are fucking disgusting,” Suzuki complained.
Sandy looked over her shoulder and laughed. “No worse than you when you’re sleeping,” she shouted back.
“I don’t fart in my sleep.”
“Everyone farts in his sleep. Yours just smell like you’re dying.”
Suzuki looked to Stew for support, but Stew wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s pretty bad, dude. That’s why, as soon as we could afford it, you got your own room.”
“I thought you guys got another room to be polite,” Suzuki said.
“Polite about what?”
“Me hearing everything that you do.”
“Oh, that? I don’t give a shit about that. You could stand to get out of the room for an hour.”
“More like a couple of minutes.” Suzuki chuckled.
Stew reached out to grab him, but Suzuki clicked his tongue and his axbeak sped up. Stew almost fell off but caught his balance. Suzuki caught up to Sandy while she laughed at Stew’s reddening face. “It’s more than a couple of minutes, babe,” Sandy called back.
The sun was setting. Suzuki pulled up his map via his HUD. He looked around the meadows and scratched his head. “We still have a long way to go. It’s probably time that we started to look for someplace to camp. We shouldn’t be on the main road.”
“Why not?” Stew asked.
“Haven’t you ever read—”
“I
’m going to stop you there. No, I have not read whatever nerdy thing you’re going to say to justify not wanting to sleep on the road.”
“It’s like Highwayman 101. Always rob the people who are sleeping on the road.”
“And Animal 101 is always attack the people off the road.”
“Sandy, what do you think?”
Sandy watched the setting sun. “Off the road,” she suggested. “There shouldn’t be anything big and scary in the meadows. Niv was telling me that axbeaks are pretty sensitive to predators around them, and these guys seem fine.”
Stew leaned forward to get a better look at the sharpness of his bird’s beak. “I’d hate to see what eats these things. Well, lead the way, Fearless Leader. If you get eaten by a bear, I’m taking your gear.”
“If I get eaten by a bear, you’re the second course,” Suzuki pointed out.
The Mundanes rode a mile away from the road as the last bit of light faded from the green and yellow meadows. They built up a fire and pitched their tents, and soon their small camp felt almost homey. Stew supplied the food: salted strips of hydra meat from the Red Lion. Sandy tossed a beer to Stew and Suzuki before cracking her own and opening a book.
Suzuki watched the sky, occasionally looking at his map. “What do you think Beth is doing right now?”
Sandy looked up from her book. She turned the page with a wave of her hand and shuddered. “I try not to think about it,” she answered. “I’ve never been to prison, and I’d hate to think what an orc prison is like.”
Stew bit into a thick piece of the hydra jerky. “Dude, we’re going to get her back. She’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah, I know,” Suzuki said. “It’s just, you know, I wish we would have figured this shit out sooner. We wasted so much time with all those bullshit missions, all the fucking gear grinding. And the whole time, Beth is out there, and we don’t even know if—”
“Suzuki,” Stew interrupted.
Suzuki looked up from his map. Stew was staring at him, the fire casting shadows over his face. He looked confident; there was no doubt on his face. He had the certainty Suzuki wished he could feel. “Beth is going to be okay. We trust you. José thinks it's possible. It’s going to be all right.”
