The Remnant

by Paul B Spence

  Tebrey moved just enough for the man's next swing to miss him and then caught the man's arm and twisted, shattering the bone. He shook the arm to make the sword drop, and then spun the man away and let him loose.

  The man's right arm hung limp at his side, but his left hand held a wicked dagger.

  Tebrey drew his combat knife and waited, his left hand held out to foil the attack of his opponent. This wasn't even close to a fair fight, and he felt bad for the doomed man.

  Suddenly a thick wooden shaft blossomed from the man's eye in a gory spray of blood. The man stumbled a few steps, and then dropped limp to the ground, dead.

  Lord Jeroen was standing behind where the man had been, a crossbow in his hand. "I apologize, Lord Tebrey. Please excuse the rude behavior of my armsmaster. We are dishonored."

  "I didn't mean him any ill will, my lord. I certainly didn't intend for him to die. I take no offense; please construe no dishonor. He paid the price."

  "You are my guest in this village. His behavior was unacceptable. Please forgive us."

  "Of course," Tebrey replied.

  "Then we will speak no more of it," Jeroen said. "Remember this man is my guest," he said to the others.

  They looked sullen, but Tebrey didn't feel any animosity directed toward him, which he found strange. He doubted they would mess with him or anyone else from the anthropology team, though.

  Jeroen explained later that his culture was used to violent death. Tebrey had acted honorably, while one of their own had not, ignoring the orders of his liege. It was right and proper that Jeroen had slain him. It mattered not that Tebrey was an outsider; it really wasn't about him at all.

  It gave Tebrey a lot to think about that evening. Mason wasn't pleased that he had been involved in a death, but agreed that it hadn't been his fault. It wasn't as if Tebrey had killed the man. She lectured him a bit about getting into situations like that in the first place, but relented by acknowledging that he couldn't have refused Jeroen without giving insult.

  Tebrey agreed to go back down with her later that week and learn more about the military aspects of the Lyonan Empire.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tebrey learned that the Lyonan Empire had a large standing military. Thirty years before, they had consolidated a hold over the entire continent except for a few outlying villages of savages and barbarians.

  "No offense intended," Jeroen had said.

  The army was mainly to subdue riots, keep local lords in check, and dissuade foreign powers from invading. These things had happened in living memory.

  Tebrey wasn't sure why he was so fascinated with the people of the village. He should have been back at the beta dig site, but he couldn't motivate himself to go back to the rocks and the long-dead culture the dig represented. Archaeology was not something he had ever been interested in. He was much more interested in living cultures. Tebrey found himself most interested in the villagers' military traditions. Most of the guards in the village had served in the army before being taken on as personal retainers to the magistrate.

  Tebrey learned that the magistrate, and Jeroen by extension, were in a mild form of self-imposed exile from the capitol. Jeroen's mother held political power and was ruthless about making sure she kept it.

  Lord Jeroen found Tebrey petting the horse in the stable. "Do you ride?" he asked.

  "Not for a long time, my lord," Tebrey replied. He'd never actually ridden a horse, just in simulated training exercises, like the swordplay. Tebrey suspected that riding a horse for real was going to a bit different from picking up a sword, and he was right.

  "I think we have a draft horse that'll be big enough for you," Jeroen's groomsman said to him. The horse he led Tebrey to was a huge red beast with feet the size of dinner plates.

  Tebrey learned that riding a horse was not as easy in real life as it had been in the simulations. Horses were wild animals and had minds of their own. He understood how to mount and to use rein and leg commands, he even knew how to post correctly, but he didn't understand all of the nuances of how horses liked to do things. Just riding around the corral was a painful experience as the horse tried to get him off its back by rubbing him against the fence.

  "Good enough," Jeroen said. While Tebrey had been learning a valuable lesson about keeping his mouth shut, Jeroen and some of his men had mounted their own horses. They all carried hunting spears.

  Tebrey managed to get his horse to stop near Jeroen. "Going somewhere?" he asked.

  "A pack of kasirs has been spotted near our eastern farms. We're going to hunt them down."

  "Kasirs?" Tebrey asked. It wasn't a word he knew.

  Jeroen looked puzzled. "Surely you know kasirs? Man-eaters? Bigger than a man and run in packs?"

  Tebrey assumed he must be talking about smaller sauriods. "Ah, yes, sorry. My understanding of your language is limited. I know them by another name."

  Jeroen nodded, and again Tebrey got the impression that the young lord didn't believe him. "I can see the confusion. No matter. You'll need a sword and a spear. Here." He handed Tebrey a long sword and a three-meter spear. The spear had a broad head the width of his hand and maybe seventy-five centimeters long. Three long flanges stuck out from the sides, no doubt to stop the target from charging up the shaft of the spear after it had been impaled.

  Tebrey didn't want to go on the hunt, but he didn't really seem to have a choice. He waved to Mason as the hunting party rode through the village. It certainly changed his perspective to sit so high above everyone else. He could understand how nobility could come to feel the way they did.

  "This is your idea of staying out of trouble, Tebrey?" Mason asked.

  "It's not like I have choice, Mason."

  "What are you doing on that beast, anyway?'

  Tebrey smiled ruefully. "Apparently, we're going hunting."

  "Don't get yourself eaten, okay?"

  "I can assure you that getting eaten is at the very bottom of ways I would ever want to die. I'll be fine. I've got my pistol with me as an emergency backup weapon."

  "Be careful."

  "I will!" Tebrey waved again as he rode out of the village. Jeroen was waiting impatiently for him to catch up.

  "Have you ever hunted kasirs before?" Jeroen asked.

  Tebrey decided to be honest. "I have not, Lord Jeroen."

  "I thought not. Stay close to me. Watch your flanks. They work together and like to circle their prey. Don't assume one is dead simply because you have impaled it. They are deadly creatures."

  "I'll remember."

  The ride to the farmhouse was uneventful but painful. Tebrey rubbed sores into places that he'd never thought about. He decided that riding a horse was something he was going to try to avoid in the future.

  The farmer came out to greet them as they rode up. He bent far to the ground, bowing to Jeroen, almost groveling. His wife waited in the doorway of the house, wringing her hands. Two small children clung to her skirts. Apparently the man's eldest son had been taken by the kasirs that morning.

  "Please find him, my lord," the man pleaded.

  "We'll do what we can, good man. Keep to the indoors until we return."

  They rode off to the northern fields.

  "So we are trying to find a missing boy as well?" Tebrey asked.

  "The boy is dead," Jeroen said flatly. "Kasirs don't keep their prey alive. They pounce and devour it. We may find a few bloody bones, but that is all. I didn't want to give them false hope, but I need them to stay calm and indoors until we kill the pack. There is no sense in them dying as well."

  "Ah." Tebrey found it interesting that Jeroen had tried to soothe the farmer's fears. It spoke well of the young lord that he cared for his people. Tebrey wondered if it was practicality, not wanting to lose a farmer, or something deeper. Jeroen seemed genuinely moved by the loss of the boy to the pack of kasirs.

  The site where the boy had been killed was obvious, even to Tebrey. Blood had mixed with the rich dark soil to make a muddy mess. It me
rcifully covered up most of the remains. There wasn't much left.

  "My lord," one of Jeroen's men spoke up. "The boy must have put up a fight. His hoe is bloodstained, and there is a blood trail leading into that copse of trees." The man pointed to a large patch of forest a kilometer away.

  "Good man," Jeroen said. "Let's get these bastards."

  The woods were thick with brambles, and Tebrey didn't need Jeroen to warn him that if some of the animals were wounded, they'd be more dangerous. One of the men gave a sudden cry and wheeled to the right and charged, spear leveled. Tebrey didn't see the target at first, but he heard it when the spear struck, a thick meaty sound, and then the creature shrieked.

  The shock of impact dislodged the man from his horse, but he managed to hold onto his spear as he fell, and Tebrey could see the impaled sauroid snapping at the haft as the man struggled to regain his feet. High-pitched screams of rage came from all around them as the rest of the pack erupted out of the trees. The man on the ground was overwhelmed, and Tebrey charged alongside Jeroen to his rescue.

  Tebrey's lance struck true at the throat of one of the massive reptiles, and he was able to keep his place in the saddle as it struggled. He found the prongs on the shaft were useful and very much needed. The kasirs didn't die easily.

  Hitting the ground was a shock, and Tebrey was momentarily stunned. A kasir he hadn't seen was ravaging his bucking horse. Pain surged through his right arm as he tried to stand. His medsuite was telling him that he'd broken his wrist. Tebrey activated his neural overrides and stood, drawing his sword with his left hand.

  All around him, men and horses and kasirs were screaming and dying. Tebrey had had no idea that the creatures would be so fierce. He suspected Jeroen hadn't, either, or he would have brought more men, and crossbows.

  A large green-scaled kasir covered in blood caught his scent. It screamed in defiant rage and leapt at him. Tebrey ducked under the flashing claws and slashed its underbelly. Blood and other juices splashed over him as it passed by. It staggered to its feet and took a few shaky steps forward before tripping on its entrails and collapsing.

  Tebrey looked around and found Jeroen. The young lord was beset by two of the beasts that kept circling him, darting in to rake his horse with claws and darting back out. Tebrey charged over to help Jeroen as his horse staggered and the two reptiles readied themselves to pounce. He saw Jeroen drive his spear through the open mouth of one, and then Tebrey was knocked from his feet by a dying horse. He narrowly avoided being crushed as it fell.

  When Tebrey regained his feet, his sword was gone, possibly under the horse. Jeroen was down, and the other kasir was closing for the kill. Tebrey drew his combat knife and leapt on the reptile's back, driving in to the ground.

  The kasir was fast and strong, and holding onto its bloody hide was like trying to hold an oiled piston. It twisted in his grasp and slashed his arms and legs with its teeth and claws. Tebrey felt the pain but didn't let it stop him from driving fifty centimeters of beryllium steel through creature's jaw and skull, killing it instantly. He rolled away from the thrashing body, ready to face another threat, but the battle was over. The kasirs were all dead.

  Jeroen helped him to his feet. The remaining guards stood around; all of them were bloodied, but they looked at Tebrey with something like awe.

  "Thank you," Tebrey said, swaying as he stood.

  "Thank you," Jeroen said. "I'd be dead if you hadn't jumped on that kasir." Jeroen shook his head. "I've never seen anything like it. You are made of stern stuff, my friend, and I owe you my life."

  Tebrey nodded. He knew what it must mean for the man to say something like that to a man he'd thought a mindless barbarian just the week before. "I don't suppose you have any bandages?" Tebrey asked.

  One of the huntsman retrieved bandages from a dead horse's saddlebags. Tebrey was surprised to see that they looked like sterile gauze. "Thanks," Tebrey said. The man helped him wrap his arms and legs where the long claws had ripped ragged lines in his flesh. Tebrey wasn't sure what impressed the men the most: the fact he'd killed one of the kasirs with a knife, or that he didn't show any pain.

  He felt the pain, though. His medsuite was screaming at him to get medical attention. He'd lost a lot of blood. The trip back to the village was a bit of a blur. He knew that Jeroen had requisitioned a wagon from the farmer, but he didn't remember getting in it, much less riding back to the village.

  Mason fussed over him all the way back to the ship. In the med bay, Dr. Rodriguez was furious with him when she treated his wounds. She had enough work without having to treat the wounds of idiots who wrestled with giant lizards. Tebrey explained to her that he hadn't had much choice, and she told him that he should break his neck the next time and save her the trouble.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dr. Rodriguez removed the medical nanotech packages a couple days later with an admonition not to come back. Tebrey limped away from her office feeling a bit put out. It wasn't as if he'd gotten himself injured purposely.

  In any case, the wounds were now just ragged pink lines, well on their way to becoming new scars. Those, too, would fade in time, but until then they would be a reminder to him to mind his own business and stick to his own profession.

  That plan lasted less than an hour.

  As usual, trouble found him – this time in the form of Dr. Bauval. Tebrey had gone from the med bay to the mess. He hadn't eaten breakfast, and the accelerated healing from the nanotech packages left him feeling starved. He loaded his tray down with high-protein food and found an empty table where he could eat in peace.

  "Commander! I was just looking for you."

  Tebrey sighed. "What can I do for you, Doctor?'

  Bauval sat down across from him. "Are you going back down to the planet with Mason today?"

  "Hadn't planned on it," Tebrey said around a mouthful of food. "Why?"

  "Damn, I was hoping you'd collect some samples for me."

  "Why can't you do it yourself?"

  "I'm not cleared to enter the village."

  "What? Why not?"

  "I'm a biologist, Commander, not an anthropologist."

  "I'm not an anthropologist, either, and they let me go," said Tebrey.

  Bauval shrugged. "It's not like anyone can tell you that you can't go."

  "Are you saying that Mason would prefer that I didn't go into the village?" Tebrey was hurt. He'd have thought Mason would just tell him to his face if she didn't want him around.

  "Oh, no, nothing like that. She said something about you having a background in xenology and linguistics."

  "I suppose I do," Tebrey replied.

  "Well, then, there you have it," Bauval said, as if that actually cleared up anything.

  "I still hadn't planned to go down to the planet today. I just got cleared by medical to return to normal duties."

  "Was there something wrong with you?"

  Tebrey laughed. "If you can call getting mauled by a pack of two-hundred-kilo reptiles wrong, then yeah."

  "What! The smaller ones they call kasirs?" Bauval sounded excited.

  "Those would be the ones."

  "Did you get samples?"

  Tebrey stared at the scientist until he blushed.

  Bauval cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, were you hurt badly? I assumed you weren't…" He trailed off.

  "I'm fine now," Tebrey said. "It was really just the one that got me. I lost a lot of blood, and it tore up my arms and legs pretty bad." Tebrey pushed up his sleeve so Bauval could see the pink scar.

  "When was this?"

  "Two days ago."

  "You've healed very well."

  "The miracles of modern medicine," Tebrey replied. "You never did say why you wanted me to go the village for you."

  "Oh, I just wanted genetic samples from as many people as I could get, especially the pale-skinned ones. But if I'd known you were hurt, I wouldn't have asked."

  "I'm cleared for duty, Doctor. What would this involve?"

  "A
ll you'd have to do is swab a few skin cells from the inside of each person's cheek."

  "That's all, huh?" Tebrey said sardonically. "Nothing to it."

  "I know," Bauval sighed. "One of the grad students tried last month and got run out of the village before she could collect any samples. Mason said you'd been accepted in the village, though. I thought you might have more luck."

  "I admit to some curiosity, especially where the pale folk are concerned." Tebrey thought about it for a few minutes. He really was best suited to do this. "Okay, get me your testing kit and show me what to do.

  Mason didn't seem surprised when they met her at the shuttle. "Talked you into it, did he?" she asked Tebrey.

  "Yeah, you know me."

  She laughed. "I suggest you talk to the magistrate first. Get permission from him, and the rest of the village will be easy."

  "I hope so."

  A few people waved to them as they exited the shuttle at the dig site. Several people Tebrey didn't even know said hello to him. "What's that all about?" he asked when they reached the skimmer.

  "People like you."

  "Why? I don't even know most of them."

  Mason shook her head. "You don't know a lot about people, do you?"

  "Only about killing them," Tebrey said.

  "You saved Jane," she said. "And then you saved Lord Jeroen the other day."

  "How do they know about that?"

  "You don't think people asked questions when we rushed your bloody carcass up to the ship the other day?"

  Tebrey shrugged uncomfortably. "I hadn't thought about it."

  "Well, think about it," Mason said. "You're a hero in the village right now."

  "I'm no hero," Tebrey replied. "I'm just a guy who's good at killing things."

  "Well, when that saves lives, people notice."

  Tebrey felt edgy as he walked up to the village, but he need not have worried. No one made a big deal about him and Mason showing up. The guards waved them through without the usual questions. Soldiers nodded to him respectfully as they walked by. It was much easier than he'd feared.