Leon noticed Sved was quick, too…quick to claim the role of torch holder once they started. Together, the two of them traveled deeper into the woods. Leon worked to haul wood back to the wagon while Sved lit the way and played the part of a one-man peanut gallery.
“You certain you don’t want to grab one more chunk before we head back? You look like a big strong lad, but maybe not, no?”
“Hey, be sure to grab any logs you see with the big fluffy mushrooms like this one here, they make an excellent soup when boiled with Water Pig vitals.”
“Can you hurry up? I’d like to make it back to my wagon deck before morning.”
The constant stream of suggestions and complaints were actually kind of amusing at first, and Leon would have normally given as good as he got, but the fact that he had been stuck with a dude while the two prettiest girls he knew were paired up with other guys didn't help his lackluster sense of humor.
While returning to the deeper part of the forest after delivering their third load, Merle caught a scent that evoked a growl. Leon initially tried to shush him, but Merle’s back hair stood on end. He was crouched low to the ground, pointing off deeper into the darkness of the still forest.
“Sved, hush up. Merle senses something. Where are those scouts supposed to be?”
“Hmm, that’s probably one of them now. Bardo was out this way, I think. Hey Bardo? That you out there? Bardo?” There was no response. Just a gentle breeze that kicked up, causing the branches above to creak and groan.
Sved turned back to say something more to Leon when something large landed with a thud, directly in front of Merle.
They both jumped back. Sved lowered the torch and gasped. His eyes flashed fear, darting to and fro as he peered up into the shadows of the limbs above. Laying at their feet was the deathly white corpse of a little bearded man.
“Run,” Sved whispered.
“Is that Bardo?”
“Head to the riverbank. Go, now.”
“What about the others?”
“Just go!” Sved raised his voice for the first time that evening.
He raised a horn to his mouth, but an arrow from the distant canopy above struck it, knocking it from his hands. Whoever took the shot likely wasn’t aiming at the horn.
Leon dropped the wood in his arms. He took one last glance into the canopy. Small leaves were crinkled dry, drained of moisture as if fall had come early that spring.
“Come on, Merle!”
Sved didn’t wait around either. He led the way forward, away from the hippo with the firewood and toward the riverbank. He was surprisingly nimble and quiet as he navigated the woods.
The trees around them felt more and more menacing in the stillness of night. Leon could still hear the rhythmic beat of drums in the distance. He didn’t have time to consider why Sved wasn’t taking them directly back to their camp and safety.
Just when he could see the steep drop off the riverbank in the distance, a scream split the air from a direction behind them and a bit further upstream. Leon’s heart stopped cold. “Sved, stop!”
“No time. Come on, Leon!”
“We can’t, that was Shana! Just give me the torch if you’re afraid.” That seemed to sober Sved a bit. He set his little shoulders and drew the bone-handled Blade from the small sheath behind his head.
“We go quietly, we get who we can, then we get out of these woods, yes? Haddie and Reed were much closer to camp, and there were at least six well-armed warriors watching over her. They should have been whisked away to the safety of camp at the first sign of trouble.”
Together the two of them and Merle crept quickly back in the direction of Shana’s scream. Then, Merle caught another whiff of something. He lurched forward, bounding into the darkness ahead. Leon tried to catch him, but Merle could be a pigheaded brute when he locked in on something.
Sved and Leon picked up the pace, following the sounds of him crashing through forest vegetation. They barged through a thick cluster of saplings and tumbled out into a small clearing. Merle was already positioned in a less conspicuous spot, crouched over like a bird dog on point, preparing to attack.
Chapter 13
A torch at the center of the clearing was all but burned out. It gave off enough light for Leon to see Shana being forcefully restrained. A man with his back to them casually held her by the neck. He had her pressed against a tree. Her face was pale white and by his posture, he appeared to be entirely ignoring her distressful gasps for air. Her attacker's body was covered in what looked to be light leather armor.
On the other side of the clearing Cooper, or who Leon assumed was Cooper, was in full wolfman mode. His clothing had been stretched and torn, but enough remained intact for Leon to tell it was him. Already cut and bleeding, inching back, paws out, Copper looked to be in bad shape. Two other men stalked forward, toward him, each angling in from a different direction.
Leon rushed the man restraining Shana. As he came dashing forward, the man whipped his head around. Leon was caught off guard. Though he looked like a normal person from behind, his face told another story. If the long pointy ears weren't enough, the culmination of haughty disdain and cold red eyes nearly caused Leon to turn away in fear right then.
It was only Shana’s wide-eyed look of frozen pain that spurred him forward. Ben had held her similarly once before, and there was nothing he could do to help then. At least this time, he could personally intervene.
As he closed the last few feet between himself and her attacker, his chest beat with that tangy electrical current he hadn’t felt in several days. This time, he was prepared for the pain and welcomed the charged embrace.
Dashing in over the last few meters, he cocked an arm back to pulverize the face of the man holding Shana. At the last moment, he rotated his hip for extra torque as he let loose a haymaker that should have put the ghostly white creature down for a good long nap.
Instead, his hand smacked into an open palm with a leathery sound that mimicked a fast ball hitting a catcher's mitt. His punch’s momentum had been stopped dead in its tracks. Steely fingers wrapped around his fist, trapping it in a vice-like grip.
The touch instantly immobilized him. His chest pumped out more of the electrical current to combat the void, forcing power out through his veins in response. The sheer volume of raw power he produced shot through him in intoxicating waves. Leon’s face contorted. His body began changing, the power outpacing the pain.
Then, it all vanished. Almost like the current had been sucked right out of him. The man-thing, holding his fist, threw back his head and laughed in manic glee. Leon could see his red eyes rolling back in ecstasy, savoring the power he had just stolen like some sort of supernatural addict.
When he spoke, his mouth was inches from Leon’s ear. The voice was just a muffled whisper, barely loud enough for Leon to hear, strained and laced with utter astonishment, “A child of the lost tribe? I've heard stories, but never tasted such…such power! I will be offered a boon of unequaled value, I will be—” He never finished the statement.
Merle tore between Leon and Shana, right into the throat of the creepy attacker. The pale white apparition screamed a short gurgling shriek before going quiet. Merle ended him with a double shake of his powerful jaws. Just that quick.
Leon wanted to cheer, but his voice failed him. Instead, his legs buckled. He fell to his knees and slumped back against the rough bark of the tree. Shana slouched down beside him.
All the dark colors of the forest were spinning, bleeding together until cold fingers brought the spinning to an end. Shana shook him again, just as quickly bringing him out of whatever sort of trance the man had put him under. "You still with me Leon?"
"Always," he responded.
"Good, come on, we've got to get up."
In response, he squeezed her hand to convince her he was better but didn't attempt to scramble to his feet right off. He swiveled his head until he spotted Cooper. One of the attackers was distracting Cooper while
the other had his sword lifted, ready to deliver the final blow.
Leon did the only thing he could in the moment. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled high and shrill, the way he did to get a lazy steer moving.
It worked a little too well. The two goons abandoned the wolfman when they realized what Merle had accomplished. They came running, swords held above them, outrage in their eyes.
Leon was preparing himself for a mercifully swift ending when Merle dropped the ghostly corpse at Leon’s feet and threw himself in their path. Crouching low on corded muscle and growling like a rabid hound, he looked every inch the danger he threatened to impose. Blood covered his jaws in the growing light of the torch's flame. That dwindling fire had managed to ignite a small cluster of dried debris and it was spreading. The whole thicket would soon be consumed in flame and smoke.
The men came to a skidding halt and split apart, each moving forward toward a different flank. They both were taking Merle seriously and Leon didn’t blame them after what he had just witnessed.
Then, from out of the shadow of darkness, a ferocious little red-bearded man burst onto the scene. He threw a silver Blade at the one on the right. The Blade struck, buried to the hilt in the shoulder of the creepy white man-creature. Its shriek was cut short as it formed on its lips, and it fell like it had been hit with a taser.
In the moment of confusion, Merle attempted an attack on the man on the left, dodging and diving below wild swings from the curved sword. Cooper simultaneously came in from behind, ending the injured one's spasms with a slash to the neck from one of his dinnerplate-sized paws.
Sved freed his Blade from the dead man's shoulder and the two of them closed the distance on their last remaining attacker. Just when it seemed they had the goon cornered, he crouched low and leaped up in an impossible vertical jump that would make an NBA star green with envy. He landed gracefully on a branch in the canopy of trees above.
Sved held his torch high. The pale apparition screeched down at them as it moved effortlessly away, gliding over and around other branches, off towards camp. Leon saw limbs wither and leaves crinkle in every spot where a bare hand touched down. The fleeing man-thing continued to make an eerie screeching sound that carried in the air. There was only one conclusion he could draw—it was calling reinforcements.
“Quickly, to the river! The forest isn’t safe! Go!” Sved ushered them all forward.
Cooper came limping up and gingerly sniffed at a cut on Shana’s arm. He towered above the rest of them, almost seven-foot-tall in his current state. Despite him being a snarling hairy mass of cuts and anger, he apparently understood Sved. Completely unshaken at his physical transition, Shana pushed him forward, and he immediately took off in the direction Sved pointed. She hurried on behind him.
Leon called for Merle. The dog came trotting up, tongue lolling, obviously pleased with himself like he had just penned a whole mob of angry momma cows, all on his own. Leon moved him along but didn’t hold back on any much deserved ‘attaboys either.
# # #
The five of them reached the riverbank without further harassment and Leon saw why Sved wanted to head that way. The forest stopped around twenty feet shy of the bank's edge and there were plenty of rock outcroppings where they might be able to take shelter and hide near the ledge. As they looked down Leon could see it was at least a twenty-foot plummet to the water below.
“Let’s move along this ridge, quietly downriver, until we clear those woods, yes? Shouldn’t be but another couple hundred yards.”
Now that they were out from under the forest’s canopy, Leon could see clouds had moved in, blocking the moon. There was only a sliver of light to see by, but it was enough that he could make out the distorted profiles of rocks impeding their path. Sved obviously thought the light was sufficient because he tossed his torch down into the currents below.
Cooper took a position at the back of the party while Sved led the way. They moved forward at a brisk pace until Sved held up an arm to stop them all.
At some point, Leon couldn’t exactly remember when, the drums had gone quiet, and horns had begun to blow. Sved scrambled back to confer.
“Camp is in chaos. Looks like the horde’s attempting to retreat back downstream. They're under attack!”
A whooshing sound interrupted his report. Leon looked back over his shoulder. The small fire from the torch back in the clearing was obviously growing, and fast! Half the forest appeared to be caught up in flames. A steady north wind drove the inferno their direction. It drove the shadows away and lit up their position against the backdrop of the riverbank.
“What do we do, Sved?”
“I-I don’t know.” The little man's eyes skittered between the camp ahead and the flames behind.
The quietness around them erupted in the same eerie keening sounds they heard when the creepy white-haired guy from earlier had fled. Then, nearby trees withered and died as five white-haired phantoms stepped from the forest’s edge, surrounding them in a crescent formation.
Cooper, still in his wolf form, didn’t hesitate. He charged the one standing in the center. The creepy white-haired guy didn’t even bother drawing his sword. He simply reached out and snatched the wolfman by the neck. His hand was coiled firmly below Cooper's overgrown Adam's apple before anyone saw it move.
Cooper stiffened and whined like a dog with his paw caught in a door. He fell to his knees as his opponent grinned down savagely into his eyes. His body pulsed. His form blurred and contorted until the unmistakable contour of a shrunken man in raggedly torn clothing took shape in place of a raging beast.
One to his left spoke through clenched teeth in defense of the attack on his companion, “How dare you? HOW DARE YOU!”
As Leon looked over the faces of the crowd before them, he couldn’t help but notice that of an archer closest to Sved. He was much larger than his brethren. He sported an ugly puckered scar down his face, from just below his eye down beneath his chin. They all looked scary, but he had an especially intimidating charisma going for him. He would be one to keep an eye on, come what may.
Then, the one who had spoken, screamed in that unflattering sound they tended to make and jumped back when Merle growled deep and advanced a step. At a flick of the leader’s wrist, two others knocked arrows and drew bows in one fluid motion.
Leon jumped out and grabbed Merle, hauling him back into his group by the scruff of his neck before things got ugly…again.
“Fools! None of you will receive the kiss of a quick death. Torture is a naïve word for what I intend to do to you until you confirm its origins!” He pointed a shaky white finger down at Merle as he spoke.
Then, the smaller of the two archers lurched forward, driven to the ground by a force from behind. Leon saw Reed’s curly dark hair sprouting from beneath the archer as the two of them struggled together on the ground. But the battle was over before it started. Reed had led with his Blade and it had done the work for him. Whether the man-thing was paralyzed by the Blade, or dead, it was hard to tell. Either way, the time for talking was over.
Sved immediately took the opportunity to flick his Blade through the air and into the shoulder of the scarred-up archer. He fell like a sack of potatoes, just as quickly as the first. Leon let go of Merle and together they attacked the leader who had been talking so big a moment before. Merle caught an arm in his jaws and shook the ever-living fight out of their would-be torturer while Leon let his fists fly. He knew Merle was doing all the heavy lifting, but it felt good to finally land a few solid combinations on an opponent.
Shana leaped forward and struck the one still holding Cooper with the blunt end of a thick stick she had collected from the forest floor minutes earlier. He hissed but she growled back louder. Gone was her soft surly voice, and in its place was a beast’s raging fury. He slipped back a step, and she pressed her advantage, literally beating the creepy white guy’s face into a pulp with the thick wooden stump until he crumbled.
Their final
foe leaped into the cover of the trees. Leon tried to follow but couldn't even reach the lowest branch.
At about the same time, Cooper made it back to his feet and was staggering about in a stupor, dangerously close to the riverbank’s ledge when an arrow struck him in the shoulder. He spun around in a sharp spasm of pain and fell back into the water below. Shana screamed like a wild cat. Without a moment's hesitation, she raced after him and dove off the ledge before anyone could stop her.
Leon ran to the edge and stopped short. He was torn between following Shana and helping the group behind.
It was Sved's voice, which drew him back from the water's edge. The little man cried out in pain. He had cast himself over Merle, just before the goon in the trees above let loose another arrow. He paid a steep price, going down hard with red fletching protruding from his thigh.
For the second time that night, Leon’s heart beat with an electric current. He grimaced as pain lanced through his body. Luckily, the pain wasn’t debilitating the way it had been in the past. It was there and gone in an instant.
Opening modified eyes and looking deeper into the tree line, he could clearly see the white apparition repositioning and knocking another arrow, aiming once more at Merle. He could also faintly glimpse a stealthy shadow stalking it from a branch above. Somehow, he could smell them both, individually, from where he stood. They both reeked of danger.
The fingers of the apparition twitched as the shadow descended. Leon roared and dove for Merle. Time seemed to slow as he somehow managed to grab his dog and roll.
A heartbeat later all was quiet again but for the breeze in the trees, the crackling blaze of a distant fire, and the echoing clatter of an arrow as it ricocheted off the rocky ledge and careened over into the dark void of the river below.
The shadow and its prey fell with a hollow thud onto the forest floor. Neither one arose. Leon glanced down at Merle who was staring up at him with concern in his eyes. That concern gave him the motivation he needed to let go of the pounding energy. When he did, the ever-present urge for more power lost all hold on him.
A Choice of Blades: The Blade Remnant, Book One Page 16
