The Lord of the Plains

by Sarah Chapman

Chapter 53

  Riley didn’t know if this was the centre or not, but it was somewhere and she was willing to settle for that.

  She and Aerlid (who was still sulking) approached the campsite slowly.

  Riley’s quick eyes flicked around, taking note of everything.

  It was not a permanent settlement. There were tents, flattened down grass, and a crazy assortment of creatures. Some had fangs and claws, horns and other protuberances. Some had discolourations and marks on their skin, patches of scales or fur. Riley also noted that some parts didn’t look quite right, as if they didn’t work properly. There were stubby, useless claws and fingers that were too short or fused together. There was a certain odour to this place, suggesting the people here weren’t overly conscious of bathing. They wore animal skins. Some had decorations, mostly consisting of parts of other gemengs. Claws were a popular feature, as were teeth. None of them carried weapons. They were the weapons.

  They stopped at the edge of the encampment.

  Riley noted the surprise on the creatures’ faces. Suddenly the camp was transformed. Menace filled the air. Gemengs spread out in a loose formation. Not all stayed near them, Riley noted some stayed to guard the rest of the camp. A few more disappeared into the grasses, perhaps to search for other interlopers.

  And then it was done and activity ceased.

  For a wild moment Riley wondered how she was to go about this. Should she just go up and say, ‘hi, I’m Riley, nice to meet you, I’d very much like to beat some of you guys up, thanks.’

  What was the procedure for this kind of thing?

  Before she could wonder any more over it, Aerlid stepped forward. He spoke in Plains-speech, the same language he had spoken to the gemengs in the rain.

  He said some things about challenge, test of strength. Riley noted curiously he specifically mentioned not fighting the lord of this tribe. She would ask later. At the moment, she focussed on remembering what he said (so she might handle it herself next time) and visually taking stock of the gemengs of this tribe.

  They all looked strong.

  But she couldn’t really tell just from looking. She didn’t think what applied to humans and gemengvals applied to the gemengs of the Plains.

  Some of the gemengs were laughing. It was loud and raucous, with an ugly edge to it.

  A man with a long, thin face stepped forward from the crowd. He was not as thick as some of the others, or so tall. What he lacked in size Riley thought he made up with the length of his claws. There was one main one on each hand. It was not so much a claw but a small sword that had grown from the creature’s hand. There were smaller claws on his other fingers, but they were small and misshapen.

  ‘I am to fight it?’ Riley asked Aerlid.

  He nodded.

  She smiled.

  She was careful at first. The ease with which she defeated him was surprising and elating. And then another came forward. She didn’t mind.

  Nor when the third came forward. Or even the ninth.

  When the first one came back again she began to get a little concerned. She’d already defeated him.

  She shoved him away for the second time and turned to speak to Aerlid. But another was coming.

  ‘Why don’t they stop?’ she called at Aerlid as she dodged and slashed around the next opponent.

  ‘Hmm, I think you’ll have to kill one of them.’ he answered.

  ‘Why?’ she demanded. They just kept lining up. When their turn came they threw themselves at her. And then they got back in the line.

  ‘I thought they’d stop when you defeated their leader.’

  Riley wondered which one that had been.

  ‘I guess they have no reason to stop. If they kill you, that will bring them glory. But they don’t perceive you as dangerous. Why would they stop when they know you aren’t going to hurt them?’

  Riley didn’t think leaving a person with cuts as deep as bone qualified as ‘not hurting’.

  She didn’t think breaking bone or leaving a creature unconscious was particularly safe.

  Apparently, the gemengs of the Plains didn’t agree.

  ‘What if I surrender?’ This had gone on long enough. None here challenged her.

  ‘That won’t help. They’ll chase us.’

  ‘I think we can run faster!’

  ‘Probably. But it’s too easy to get lost here. We could easily end up running straight into another camp. No, I think you’ll have to kill one of them.’

  She was trembling.

  The camp was littered with wounded gemengs. Children and those who hadn’t fought skittered through the mess, bandaging here, giving water there.

  Sweat was getting into her eyes.

  The little children made faces at her.

  Her sword felt so heavy.

  And they just kept coming.

  Even the children, she realised, even the children make fun of me.

  What was wrong with them?

  How was this not getting into trouble?

  She’d defeated every fighting gemeng in this camp at least thrice over.

  But they didn’t fear her.

  So there was no reason for them to stop.

  She was tired. Was this the limit she had wanted to find? She was going to end up killing one of these creatures by mistake. A surge of frustration energized her.

  Another was down, at least for a little while, and then the next was already charging at her.

  She didn’t particularly care. They’d certainly had enough chances to stop and accept defeat.

  But she also didn’t acknowledge them as a threat, so she could not make the choice to just kill them and make it stop.

  Much the same way they didn’t see her as a threat, she supposed.

  But they would kill her.

  If they could.

  Maybe soon she would be tired enough that they could.

  Her stinging green eyes locked onto the next one.

  She had never been this tired.

  She didn’t know how much longer she could go on.

  But she wasn’t going to get into a position where they could kill her because she hadn’t felt up to it.

  The next was down.

  She began speaking. The next one didn’t wait. It kept coming. She felt as though she was moving through cave mould as she dodged the next attack.

  ‘I will kill… the next person who lifts a hand against me.’

  This one was down.

  It didn’t count. It hadn’t waited for her warning.

  Everything went curiously slowly. Another got up. A male. His face was twisted in contempt and disgust.

  She moved it seemed by rote. She couldn’t remember making the choices, she just moved.

  Then it was down and blood was getting all over her shoes.

  And then another was coming!

  ‘What’s wrong with you?!’ she screamed. ‘Look, he’s dying!’

  But not dead.

  A little child was approaching with bandages. She’d just shoved her sword through this man’s chest and children were coming up to her, happy as you please. Coming to fix him up. So he could throw himself at her again.

  ‘Get away!’ She grabbed the child by its tunic and shoved it.

  Suddenly, her arm felt like it had been set on fire. She turned, saw. Claws raised. Face a rictus of hate.

  It had hurt her.

  She slashed with her dagger. She was blocked.

  Enough.

  She summoned energy and anger from somewhere. This one went down, his head nearly severed from his neck.

  Another was coming.

  Nearly severed.

  Not quite.

  What did she have to do to get them to stop?!

  Another child was coming!

  Quickly she bent down and grabbed the man’s head by the hair.

  She growled and waved her dagger at the approaching child. ‘Get away!’

  The grisly nature of her quick work did not affect her.

&
nbsp; She was too tired and too shocked.

  She bounded up. The next was nearly there.

  She thrust the last one’s severed head before her. ‘Look! Dead! Dead! Now go away! Go away!’

  The next was female. She skidded to a halt.

  She appraised the head sceptically, as if deciding on its deadness.

  Then she turned and walked away. Limped away.

  The children went too. Well, they were not so frightened by her that they didn’t stop to gather up the wounded.

  One even wanted the head.

  ‘Mine!’ she growled at it.

  This was proof. Without the head they’d come at her again.

  She felt curiously light headed, like she might float away.

  Even more curious was that she could actually walk.

  When she spotted Aerlid it took her a moment to remember what he was doing there. She was too tired to ask why he hadn’t come to help her.

  Riley stared at herself in the stream. She was covered in sweat and blood and dirt.

  She had a severed head in her hand.

  She knelt down by the stream. She more fell than knelt. But she was down. She dipped her hands in the stream. For a moment she let the water carry the mess away from them. Then she scrubbed them. She cupped her hands and washed her face.

  After, she turned to Aerlid. ‘Why did they keep coming?’ she asked.

  ‘They weren’t afraid.’ he shrugged. He almost seemed to glow compared to her.

  ‘Why not?’ she demanded. Her reflection hadn’t filled her with thoughts of safety, that was for sure!

  ‘Riley, here the winner of a challenge kills the loser. You didn’t.’ he shrugged. ‘Not for a great many challenges. Riley, I’m afraid we’ll have this problem everywhere in the Plains. If you aren’t willing to kill the loser perhaps we should think about leaving.’

  ‘What if I keep the head?’ she asked. She gazed down at it. Her mind didn’t seem to be making all the connections it should. Everything was moving so slowly.

  It was hard to imagine this had once been attached to a body. Words had once come out of that mouth.

  Aerlid shook his head. ‘I don’t think that will help.’

  ‘Well I guess I’ll give it back then.’

  Riley turned to look at her arm. It was still burning. There was a new slice in her clothes. It was more a graze than a cut. A red line, but no blood.

  Well, it didn’t need attention, so she turned away from it.

  Riley continued cleaning herself at the stream. She said no more to Aerlid.

  She didn’t feel like making any decisions at the moment.