by Matt Wilk
“So, the monster’s dead and the poacher’s dead. Why do you need us?”
“Because both would have killed you in your sleep, and neither were alone. Corporal, give me a staggered sweep. I’ll take point.”
He spun his axes with that screeching friction sound and rolled his shoulders before walking into the wood. Lazarus held out his hands to stop us until Major Bloodaxe had a good head start.
We spread out wide with Senjay and I at opposite ends, leaving Lazarus centered but hiding low in the rear. I raced across the open ground avoiding the moonlight. I felt like the loudest beast in the land and was sure my heartbeat would give us away. I caught a glimpse of Major Talon as she sped by in perfect silence. Her whisper changed our direction south and she again went wide out into the darkness. Senjay was the first to make contact. I was so far away that all I could hear was a yelp, a thump, and the thunder of Major Bloodaxe taking off with a ground shaking sprint. I followed as quickly as possible, no longer taking care to stay low. I thought I had done a good job, but I was so far away from the action that I could not have helped anyone. I found Lazarus ducking behind a tree and trying to see through a thick line of bushes. He threw up a hand but I did not slow. Before I could dive into the thicket, Senjay’s limp body was tossed out- I caught him just in time. I looked up to see Major Swiftblade’s mask become illuminated by a sudden burst of flame. Whoever was hiding in the bushes, they let out a final cry before their voice was reduced to strained gasps for air.
“Throw down your weapons and throw up your hands. All of you surrender. No!”
There was another burst of flame and light. Lazarus took Senjay to lay him down flat and used his own head wrap to cover Senjay’s bleeding head wound.
“And then there was one. What will it be old-timer?”
The old man spoke too low at first, so he got a good kick. I used the distraction to crawl under the bush, only to regret it before my first blink. The poachers were hiding in the same lion’s den they had filled with traps. Before Major Bloodaxe showed up, they had surrounded themselves in the meat laden traps and bunkered down in the middle for fear of going the way of their mate.
“Just do it quick laddie. T’aint nothin’ for it no ways.”
“Talk. What were you all doing out here? Who sent you?”
“Weren’t ol’ Seamus sonnie, tell ya’s that. Didn’t do nothin’, don’t know nothin’.”
“If you don’t get to talkin’, I’ma get to killin’. You understand? Now spill it!”
The old man must have popped the cork on a horn of wine. Though he was still hidden from view, I could smell man’s favorite poison amongst the rotting flesh. While Seamus chugged, his mates took their last shallow breaths. The man with the sucking chest wound shook violently, and, when his hands dropped, all of his organs spilled out of his open gut.
“‘Twas a trick. Berrart knew, he knew. They tricked ol’ Seamus, they did. Just out ‘ere to make a quick coin. Too good to be true, I knew it was.”
The old man started sobbing and begging for death again. A slap returned him to reality.
“What were you doing here? What was the primary mission? What did Berrart know?”
“It was evil. Something got ahold of him. He whimpered in his sleep, he did. Called to him, it did. Weren’t nothin’ for it, weren’t me sir. I swear it. It weren’t me!”
Major Bloodaxe changed his tone and knelt beside the man to speak in a calming voice. When he moved, I saw the man displayed clearly in the moonlight. I never saw him before but I somehow recognized him as one of the men from the mountain pass. I could still remember him claiming the gods had no mercy. His beard was singed and his leg was already rotting from where he had been chewed on by a monster. The moment I thought he had gotten what he deserved, his gaze shifted over to my eyes. He continued to speak to Major Bloodaxe while his body relaxed, and, after he finished his horn, he threw it away and smacked his lips with a smile.
“What was it haunting your man? It’s alright old-timer, you can tell me.”
“Surely is sir. Everything’s gone right. The Lexicon calls to me now, it calls, and I…”
“Ha, the Lexicon of Potentiality? Too bad I don’t believe in ghost stories. Go on then, what does it say? What have the gods written in for your final histories?”
“The fallen prince… deliver the bow… must deliver the bow. No, it weren’t me laddie. I want to be good! Take me before the underKing does. Argh!”
His eyes came back into focus and he rolled over to grab a heavy blood covered bow. He held it up to Major Bloodaxe, and then tried to jam it into his stomach.
“No it weren’t Seamus… the fallen. Ah! You got yer pike soldier, I know it. Do it quick, do us one mercy. Please!”
Major Bloodaxe shook his head in disbelief. Then he stood and surveyed the traps.
“Damn poachers. Belly full of rotten meats. Moon Mad I say.”
“No it weren’t…”
Seamus thrust the bow out only to have it slapped away. He seized and shook, and then his eyes found their way back to me. He looked down at the bow, just feet from where I was hiding. To my horror, he crawled after it, setting off enough traps to kill a bear in the process.
“Must, ah! Deliver… no… The Lexicon… Goja’s-will-be-done.”
Only one hand made it to the bow and the extra weight caused the trap hidden under my nose to snap the iron plated bow like a frail twig. The man, Seamus, lay dying before me, staring into my eyes. His eyes were already empty. Even while still breathing, his soul was lost to the underKing. Major Bloodaxe kicked the remaining traps out of the way and stuck his pike into the base of his skull. Seamus was no more, but then, Major Bloodaxe realized that I was there the whole time.
“What are you looking at boy-o?”
He stood tall and kicked his way through the thicket.
“You like what you see? You want a better seat next time? Don’t worry, you’ll have one- front row and centered. Corporal!”
“Sir yes sir!”
“Weave me a stretcher. Get these bodies ready to move. When the sun comes up, clear these traps out of here. Move it.”
“Sir yes sir!”
Lazarus let go of Senjay and began searching for the proper items. I held up Senjay and helped him mosey through the opening in the bush. Major Bloodaxe leaned in as we walked through.
“You’ve got no one to thank but your own fathers for what comes next Swillian.”
I did not know what was happening. Thankfully, the confusion helped me to focus my thoughts on being elsewhere. Cleaning up the body parts was quite literally a bloody mess. Senjay kicked them for knocking him on the head and Major Talon cackled at his lack of empathy.
“What are you piling up all these traps for? There’s still contaminated meat all in ‘em.”
The only tool available to open the traps was a sword hiding at the bottom of a pool of blood. No matter, they had to be cleaned out or there would be another monster in them when we returned. By the time Major Bloodaxe was satisfied with our stretcher of death, I had already vomited twice. We marched south with the bodies of men and beasts all in a pile. Senjay stayed out in front while Lazarus and I balanced the stretcher between us. There was no path. Before long, almost no light penetrated through the canopy. Eventually, the nightmarish reality went dead silent.
My mind played at every possible horror that could have come. Though my eyes saw many a monster just off the trail, the Majors were unafraid. They led us south for miles without stop. Senjay was made to collect the body parts that fell off our stretcher. With the amount of blood leaking from it, we could have found our way back with ease. I expected the woods to thin and open up. Instead, the trees grew ever closer. The night grew darker and the smell of soggy rot grew thicker. When the ground turned to a wet slope our destination came into view. Hidden from view on all sides, at the very bottom of a heavily wooded valley, stood another Drakkah Monument.
“Is this where that Magi is hid
ing? Is he working for Emperor Goja?”
Major Swiftblade laughed at me and pressed his finger to his lips. We were making plenty of noise with each step on the dead and frozen trees but we could not speak again until Major Bloodaxe instructed us to carry the stretcher onto the dais.
“There you go, keep it steady.”
“Sir, what is happening? Aren’t we baiting more monsters with human flesh?”
“Ha!”
“Quiet. You know I don’t like repeating myself.”
In all, the count was three men, the head of a sloth, and the heads of two striped lions. The gruesome mess and the stretcher itself was divided between the two measuring cups of the giant scales. The center of the dais was slick with blood that looked black in the altered glow from an incomplete moon. They lined us up as they had a month before, every order a harsh whisper.
“Alright boy-o, time for you to understand the world your people left behind. Do any of you know the rhyme? C’mon, you know the one I mean.”
“Sire, Grandmother taught us better.”
“What’s that?”
“Sir, the recruit is referring to the nature of blaming Matthius, sir.”
“Well, we aint in a schoolyard- children.”
Major Talon turned crazy so quickly I thought a Magi might have put her under a spell as well.
“Except there are no more schoolyards. There are no more children. You know the horror? Tell us then. I would hear it from your own face. Say it! Say it!”
She had me by the shoulders and shook me violently. There was only one way to make her stop. The story was so easy to remember that every child who ever caught sight of my spots would stop to sing it, and make faces. The scene before me drained all of my strength and I sang the tune like a child with tears in my eyes.
“In three-ninety-seven they returned with a weapon,
All manner of shield it did mock.
It called the flu weak, and preyed on the meek.
From the goats burst a Swillian pox.”
“Yes, and now it haunts all of us. If the body is not burned, the pox will return. Do you see now what your father left for us? Now, there can never be peace- Never!”
“I didn’t, I don’t,-”
“You don’t get to look away.”
She kicked my legs away and I dropped hard on my knees. She turned and stomped to the center support beam that held up the horizontal balancing beam. Major Bloodaxe held up his hands and backed out of her way. Her long hooked blade shot out to full extension and spun with that harsh screech. When it stopped, she inserted her left gauntlet’s Drakkah headed barrel into an unmarked cavity of the statue. She turned back to meet my eye and then spun her arm. Once the weapon was locked in place, heat and fumes whistled from within the statue itself, and then it even began to move. The cups were shown to have a hidden layer which spun up and over its twin. Once the cups had been transformed into perfectly sealed globes, steam rose from their surfaces. Major Talon was staring deep into my eyes as she incinerated the infected corpses. I could not look away and she did not stop until her entire cartridge was drained. The high pitch whistling began to wind down and the statue slowly set itself to right. Without so much as a whiff of burnt flash powder, no man would ever have discovered on his own the true power of the scale statues.
“This is all we have left!”
Major Talon moved to one of the cups, still shaking with a rage. She scooped up a handful of ashes and threw the hot remains in my face.
“This is your legacy.”
She spit in the ground in front of me and disappeared into the woods. Major Swiftblade saluted at Major Bloodaxe and ran off in another direction.
“Clean yourself off. Same goes for the rest of you.”
Senjay understood temporary blindness from his unfortunate accident with the bats. He held my shoulder and elbow to lead me properly, as I could only just barely squint through one eye. We all scrubbed our gear with snow and then scrubbed at our hands. The blood would not be rinsed off so easily. I was not satisfied until I had dug through the frost and properly rubbed dirt on my hands and face to cover the red stains. For once, I was too horrified to be angry. Major Bloodaxe sat on the edge of the raised dais to wait. He was holding his forehead and getting his thoughts lined up to make his statement quickly.
“The Lexicon of Potentiality, the many plans each of the gods has for us. It is a myth, made up by priests to appease greedy lords. The true nature of the Drakkah is a secret you must take to your grave. And, my dogs will be going nutty by now.”
He opened his eyes and then stood, still shaking his head.
“Corporal.”
“Sir.”
“Every bit of metal is gathered up, including what’s buried in the ash. I want a proper scrub on all this gear. Training resumes this afternoon at your discretion. When you’re finished stacking the traps and blades on the plateau, get some rest.”
“Sir, yes sir.”
“No questions boy, don’t even think about it.”
“Yes sir.”
He saw I was hungry for a better explanation and wisely nipped it in the bud. There was no end to the questions I would have asked. I played them over and over in my own head- in silence.
“Hey, wake up.”
Lazarus had his hand on my shoulder and Major Bloodaxe was already gone.
“Sorry, I was just wondering about, you know, everything.”
“Too bad, snap out of it. You’re digging in the ash. Let’s move.”
“What?”
“You’re immune to the Swillian plagues, so you’re digging through the ash for melted coin and whatever else can be reclaimed. Hurry it up, I’m going to check on Senjay.”
I could not respond. Lazarus had no answers and his eyes were just as tired as mine. He pushed my slack jaw shut and went back up the hillside. The cups held few pieces of metal left melted into odd shapes and my stomach had nothing left to vomit. In a matter of blinks, I was amongst the others, pushing a bloody mess aside with my boot to dig up the grounding stake of an ankle trap. In a few blinks more, I was scrubbing my gear with a ball of root while Lazarus bid us to finish. I could not go to sleep hungry as they so easily did. Instead, I sat out in the sunrise with Kru and watched Major Bloodaxe head into town. With all the evidence he was taking to the Lantos, he left the heavy bow broken and even stole its iron plated reinforcement. He was the fallen prince of some lost nation, yet he defied the gods in refusing to exact revenge against the Swillians- meaning myself. Whatever ugly sins were attributed to him over the years, he was one of the few men of honor left in the world. But, because the rest were taken by my fathers, I reckon Berrart and his men were sent by the underKing himself to ensure that I did not survive my training.
“Were you praying for my safe return?”
I opened my eyes and moaned from the stiffness of my body.
“Master, you are alive.”
“Did you fall asleep in the Shaman pose?”
Major Swiftblade had returned from skinning the striped lions. His mask had a new claw mark on it and he carried the remains by the tail. When he put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, I became aware of the time. I was kneeling comfortably in the warm sun when I fell asleep, sinking down lopsided into my armor. Kru yawned from his black stone bed and rolled over to watch Major Swiftblade splay the giant cat furs. I noticed he had left no singed hairs nor stained the black and gold stripes with a single drop of blood.
“Only a true Monster Hunter could do that Kru. Even the lion offers him no challenge.”
Somehow, Kru nodded in agreement. The sight made me giggle too hard and I was forced to stand. With all the stretching and groaning, the other dogs came out to see if I was doing pushups and needed to be weighed down.
“Fetch wood for the fire. I’ll have my dinner early.”
“Yes sir!”
I could not have been more excited for food. I flipped over the fire block and Major Swiftblade woke the others. He firs
t knocked on Lazarus’s cart.
“Corporal.”
Lazarus jumped up while still half asleep and completely inside the tent. The cover pulled the pegs out of the cart walls and his hand slowly raised to a salute.
“Sir.”
His voice came out soft and muffled. Major Swiftblade pulled off his mask and covered his mouth to laugh without making noise.
“The sun is setting strangely early. We will have chow early as well.”
“Sir yes sir.”
The tent cover outlined Lazarus dropping his hand and relaxing his shoulders. I thought he was taking his leadership role too seriously and Major Swiftblade rolled his eyes around in agreement. When he knocked on the cart Senjay and I had been sharing, the door dropped off its broken hinges and fell straight to the ground.
“Oh my sir, what have you done?”
The door had just missed his toes and he pointed a knife hand at me. I pointed two back at him and he put up another one at the yawning head of Senjay.
“That time already?”
“Who did this?”
“Yea that, my fault sir.”
Senjay did not register anything on his face. He simply shrugged off the still broken door and sat in the cart bed to slowly pull on his gear. After having saved Senjay’s life, Major Swiftblade was not offended. Instead, he treated Senjay’s angry reaction with understanding. He motioned to the empty fire pit and I slapped my own face for being so forgetful.
Rounding the compound made me draw in more than I had expected. My blood stained hands shook, and my eyes saw everything. Finding dry wood was a nerve racking process and I jumped at the snap of every twig. I kept seeing the shadow men that trace the edges of one’s glance, trying to convince their victim to go mad. I could not even turn my back to the forest while I cracked the flint stones together. I cut my hands many times, covering them in fresh blood. I did not regain focus until Lazarus smiled at me with his eyes and literally pulled my hands out of the fire.
He had a stoic image going with his head wrap and face cover. Senjay and I could have used a pair ourselves, but, if I wanted to hide my face, I had no choice but to grow my hair as long as Mato the Lokah. Senjay did not join us by the fire. He sat in the cart wearing one boot and staring down at the broken door.
