by Matt Wilk
Major Swiftblade made the native predators look like fools on their own turf. The largest raptor, a female with purple stripes on her flume, blew right past him. He stood firm like a stone goyle and that taunted the third bird into a spear-like charge. The Swiftblade dodged at the last moment and the bird ran into the open door, crushing it into the fence and toppling it all over. The beast shook his neck feathers and honked like a dying swan through a cracked beak. It decided the fight was officially over and no longer wanted to bother with the crafty humans. He trotted over to his fallen mate and dug right into the chest cavity. After ripping open the other raptor’s ribs, he too reared back for a final strike to tear out the heart, and claim his status as the new alpha.
“No, don’t.”
Ambassador Crow tried to call a stop to Shale and Clarence, but they were out for revenge. The bird was beheaded just like the other, and the female returned to see her whole tribe dead on the ground. Crow backed the mercenaries away from the innocent beast, and she revealed the reason for her absence. In her beak was an egg thrice the size of my head. She careened her long neck around- further than any owl could- and tucked her lonely egg in between her flightless wings. Just as ruthless as her male counterparts, she then dug into the chest of the fallen bird and tore out his heart. She leaned back and swallowed it whole before letting out a final screech at all of us. I dove to the ground, still she chose to stomp on my shell a final time on the way southwest, returning to the freedom of the wild. Then the dark night fell completely silent.
I retrieved Johnny’s sword while the others piled up the bodies. Shale cut the implant from Johnny’s head, disappointed that it was unable to heal its user. The raptor had ripped his heart out, a wound from which there could be no recovery.
“Let him lie here.”
“Don’t you tell me nothing, Ambassador Coward.”
“There is no need.”
Master Crow chased our glance to the north east where smoke was drifting into the sky. The Sheek-tee already knew of our success and had begun returning spirits to their home amongst the stars. Shale snatched the sword out of my hand and slid it into the spare scabbard on his off hip.
“And you’re no better you little runt.”
“I baited them out in the first place.”
“You did nothing but hide and let us do all the fighting.”
“He was busy saving my life.”
“Which was your job to begin with. You should be thanking him.”
Shale turned on Major Swiftblade like a rabid dog and got aggressively close to his face. However, he kept his voice to a low growl that only the three of us could hear.
“Don’t you lecture me Master Drakkah. I been around long enough to know exactly what that thing on your arm is capable of.”
“Then you too can know the honor of taking that secret to the grave.”
“You could have burned out the whole cave all at once.”
“With the way your men go on about military secrets? I would never dare.”
They were ready for more bloodshed, so I interjected while it still might work.
“You’re right about that Master Shale, Johnny loved his fighting. That giant monster just got lucky with a sneak attack is all. Damned bear-kin, that Shaman was right. This whole place wreaks of evil.”
“And so, the Sheek-tee will burn it out for us. Come, let us have a farewell and get back to poor Slip before he dies of fright.”
Clarence took the bait and actually walked over to shake my hand. His eyes were bright red and filled with ecstasy. His face was twisted into the smile of evil pleasure. I knew then that the blood lust had taken his soul for good.
“Yea, Slip’s the real coward boss. Honestly, thank you Matthius. I can’t begin to tell ya how good it feels to be out killin’ again. Slain the whole damn lot of ‘em, didn’t we?”
“Yes well, with your display, the underKing will be pleased to be see Johnny.”
Shale forcefully turned over the swirled implant to Major Swiftblade and forced himself to laugh along with Clarence. They shook his hand once more, making references to his many follies as a citizen, and praising him for his final braveries before judgement. He was a worthy opponent in a boxing pit, and he died protecting the bond between three separate nations. Ambassador Crow tried to make the prayer of the moon worshipper over his body. I thought it was a fitting ceremony for a body laid out under the light of a nearly full moon but Shale pulled him up from his knees and sped us along. For the mercs, there was no appreciation for their own role in bringing peace to the land.
“He was a real rough and tougher. The White Coal drink forever in the halls from which they came. They protect the future patrons from evil spirits.”
“Amazing, Master Shale. I’ve never heard very much about this tribe. Your gods must love the brave, and their drink as well.”
“That’s right bub. Speaking of which, we’ve got to drink to his honor. Have you got any wines in that fancy box-car? Can’t let the spirit of Johnny the Knuckle go thirsty. It would be mighty disrespectful. The gods demand it.”
“Well of course. If it is truly what his gods desire…”
Unfortunately for us all, there would be no celebration. Slip had nearly died of fright indeed. He spent the past few hours quietly shaking and nervously cooking for the entire tribe. The Sheek-tee had gathered to number near a hundred, and about half as many armored broad steeds. Major Swiftblade demanded that we catch up to our schedule by riding through the morning, but, poor Slip was in no such a condition. It was not easy for me to get used to driving a spoiled mare and her master’s boxed wagon. Gusts of air would pull my shell up, and, more than once I fell asleep at the reins, only to find myself on the roof, thankfully still tied by one wrist.
We travelled through rolling hills for hours and I caught a glimpse of some of the local monsters. However, whilst exposed and freezing and tired, they mixed in and out with the shadow men. White wolves stalked us for several miles. They spent the day weaving in and out of sight, and the day after as well. I could only feel the Sheek-tee watching us from the safety of the canopy, but the wolves revealed themselves without fear. They used the noise of the convoy to flush out prey. The valley took two entire days to cross, and they had me on edge the entire time. Just mentioning them brought Slip’s nerves back something awful. Major Swiftblade made me drive the boxed wagon as long as we were with them, as it was my fault the posh servant was so afraid.
The wolves howled their goodbyes at us when we slowed to cross the only other stream that flowed across the road. The road led up a steep incline, just before exposing the border of the forest. They did not use the tight corridor for an ambush, however, the high walls did amplify the screams of the poor beast that took our place as dinner. After a time, the road flattened and I managed to sleep in short bursts. Until the sun rose on our seventh day, headed west out of Embraun.
“Clarence look out!”
He could not wake up and react in time, but his steed was ready. There were bison all over the road ahead, forcing us to slow. The trees gave way to a rolling plain, unveiling many more tribes of migrating creatures. Moose and stag competed to grow the most magnificent antlers. Phoenixes littered the river that ran back east and eagles circled above diving on the shoreline for abundant scraps. The bears and furry rhinos were as overwhelmed as I was, and hence made no threats against the beasts flooding through the valley. Wild blue clucks followed behind the many breeds of steed, both for protective cover, and for first pecking rights at their manure. Quite a while after my nose had adjusted, I heard a collective groan from inside the boxed wagon.
“Major Swiftblade, are you seeing this? Isn’t it amazing?”
He rolled his eyes around before calling back, but, with our slow pace, he managed to get everyone in on his joke.
“It was amazing, not hearing your voice, for nearly one whole morning!”
Shale banged around in the bed of his cart in agreement, and a group of
hogs rooting through all the dung on the road oinked in solidarity with his brutish snorting.
“Is that our station, all the way up there?”
“Yes, now be quiet. There are more beasts about than you realize.”
The sunrise only backlit the hazy outline of a long mountain range in the distance. The road was headed northwest, straight for the grainy profile of what I knew to be another command post dug into the face of the rock. From that base, any enemy would be seen coming a day in advance.
To the southeast, the grass turned to reeds and wet pebbles from a leaking underground spring. A herd of armored cave beavers was rolling away from an attack. One of their mates fell behind and was caught in a circle of small red raptors. They were stabbing at his protective shell with pointed beaks, but to no avail. Just behind them, still hidden in the last patches of grass, lurked a pride of similarly coated red and grey long tooth lions. I looked away from their attack, but still heard their shrill cries. Major Swiftblade had his gaze pointed back into the forest scanning the trees. I saw only birds of prey, and the occasional sloth. I was sure that the Monster Hunter could see more.
The steeds rode at an excited pace, making the summit of our new mountain home by late afternoon. The serpentine came into view, as well as the tunnel in which the road actually led. We pulled in at a gravel staging area with its own designated fire pit and I set right to it. I expected our powders to be low with the amount of food Slip had cooked for the Sheek-tee, but not nearly as low as they were. Our three month supply of salty vitamin mix and buttered bone broth had been decimated to a single month’s ration. And, of course, Slip used the still sealed leather bags, leaving us with the already open and heavily shared portions.
“Thank you Master Slip. Really, your contribution will be well appreciated.”
“Is that so little one?”
“Yes, especially next week. We will be chanting your name very loud.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“Because we will be out of food and waiting for the scurvy to set in- idiot!”
“Well, I’m sorry sonny. You know, nerves and all.”
“If you’re truly sorry, then you can wash the dishes.”
“No, they don’t have the time.”
“But, M-”
“Neither do you.”
“Yea, hurry up. I’m starving over here.”
Even with our dwindling supply, Major Swiftblade had me prepare a full meal for everyone. He drove Eso around the serpentine to the first of three tiers. The stables were only raised a few feet off the ground. He unlatched the cart his self, and freed his steed to graze.
“This is as far as you go, Matthius. The Chron expect us to be arriving as we speak, but, we’ll be lucky to make it before sun up tomorrow.”
“Then why not stay?”
“We all have orders to follow, young man. Besides, it will be safer exiting the tunnel under the cover of darkness. Less of a chance to be ambushed by men that is.”
“I hope there aren’t any bats in there sir.”
“And why not? It seems a perfectly reasonable home for the bat to claim.”
“I just mean, I hope they don’t attack you.”
“The way they did you.”
“Yes sir.”
Ambassador Crow gripped my shoulder firmly and nodded. Shale was scraping the pot for the final drops of soup, so only Clarence was still paying attention.
“Hope we run into a whole horde of them. You and the servant can wait in the wagon whilst we fight our way out. I heard all about the mess you made at Giant’s Bridge. You barbarians got to smash everything. Just trying to keep all the fun for yourself?”
“Being attacked by an army of giant flying rats is not fun.”
“Yea, but fighting them off will be.”
Slip was horrified by our words and his fear ridden face made the mercs laugh heartily. Major Swiftblade had me move to the fine dishes early while he stood watch over Eso and the other steeds. The day’s light was fading and poor Slip could barely muster the courage to scrub the lighting globe of its bear’s blood coating. Every man had a few moments to himself while we prepared the convoy to move again. Eso came back in to say goodbye to the spoiled mare pulling the Ambassador’s wagon.
“We will stay for the end of the celebration, and give thanks to Mother Moon in her full bounty. Look for us around this time the day after.”
“Good luck sir. I hope, for your sake, they don’t join the union.”
Master Crow and his man servant Slip shot daggers at me with their eyes, not understanding my implied sense of humor.
“Only, so that you must come again next year.”
“Aha yes. And the year after as well.”
“And once more for good measure.”
“Very good young Matthius. One day, perhaps, you will lead my convoy to Hi-yadora.”
“Only if Slip does the dishes sir.”
“Ha! Good one sonny.”
Slip nodded down from his seat and Major Swiftblade finished issuing his final orders to Shale. Clarence was already standing in the stirrups waiting to continue on. He mock saluted me and I returned the gesture.
“Oh yea! Let’s go already! Kill-kill-kill!”
At Shale’s nod, Clarence kicked the steed into a hastened acceleration. He did not sit down until they had reached the tunnel entrance. I could hear the echoes of his excited battle cry. Somewhere in the forested mountain beyond, it scared bats out of their cave early. By the time they could make it back, and assuredly demand another meal, it would be the last of our provisions. Scanning the mountain side for berries or sloth cakes proved to be a fruitless effort. Eventually, I would have to learn every passable step of the cliffside, the rolling hills, and the tree covered streams- or starve. As long as Major Swiftblade seemed confident in our new surroundings, I remained comfortable with not knowing exactly how long we had to stay. Though, it did not stop me from prodding for more details.
“So, there goes our first caravan, safely through the tunnel. Do you know how many more we should be expecting?”
“If the Swillians have their way, it will be the last.”
He continued to stare into the dark abyss until the noise fell completely silent. Major Swiftblade could read the shock written in bold on my face but acted unaware of his slip of the tongue.
“The Swillians sir? What in the-”
“To the top. Stop hesitating. Now!”
Eso stayed on the ground level, enjoying all the wide open stables. The second tier held a much more complex web of rooms, with open ceilings that one would need several ladders to reach. The third tier was not for my eyes. The road split at the top of our compound. We headed left, away from the official quarters that were complete with doors and firewood. We ran along the mountain on a hidden pass too narrow for any pony. Major Swiftblade stopped momentarily over the tunnel and held his ear to the mountain, listening for the rumbling convoy. But, he did not allow for me to catch up. Whatever we were chasing, it could not wait, and we were already late.
The way ahead thinned from a small road to an even smaller cat walk. Every gust of icy wind that blew down from the peak nearly took me over the edge and looking down made my eyes spin. Several blue cluck houses were set up on a ledge cut further into the rock face, as well as a dried out glass-house for growing greens. I nearly caught up to Major Swiftblade when he slowed, however, it was only a stutter step. His cape smacked my cheek in a rush as he leapt up the mountain. With my shell catching all the air it could, I had to crawl my way up to the next level. From there, we ran through scarlet pines and the ever soggy living layer of bugs and fungi on the ground.
“Stop here, water.”
“Yes…sir.”
The Swiftblade was not out of breathe- he knew I was. While I stretched and drank hot water that tasted like burnt eggs, he rolled up his sleeves tightly above each gauntlet. He pulled the safety toggles from their loops and opened the loading chamber of the Drakkah cannon.
The disk shaped cartridge was still safely backwards and backed off the firing pin in the secondary compartment. To my surprise, he kept it there. Then he revealed that the cloak’s broad shoulder plates had been hiding extra rounds the whole time. How many remained, I did not know. When he loaded a fresh cartridge into the front compartment, I was struck by the glare off its pristine Ulfbar steel. The muted black iron cover slid smoothly into place, silently from utilizing whale oil properly- for lubrication. He finished by punching out to utilize the spring based locking mechanism.
“The Lantos are secretly gods. There is no other explanation.”
Major Swiftblade checked the assembly on his right hand with a similar motion, forcing the long blade of Ulfbar steel to spring out to full extension. Being armed with the deadliest weapons was so gratifying that he wore the bloodlust on his face without any shame.
“Why do you think the Swillians want them dead?”
He retracted the blade with just as much ease and knelt for some water. I understood what he meant. The Lantos were the only reason the nation existed, and the only entity keeping it safe.
“Ugh. Don’t drink this water. You will get the runs.”
“Umm, yes sir.”
It was too late for me, because he had already confiscated the cleaned out powder bag for carrying fresh water. The bastard quickly drank his fill and stuffed it back into his uniform. He cracked his neck to both sides, and we were off. We had to crawl over the crest of the baby mountain because the sun was still up on the other side. Far across the Frozen Chalice Sea was a much larger mountain, propping up the western glacier. The sun was hiding behind it but the sky was still light enough to see everything. The tunnel emptied out far in the north where the sea ended at the raised tree covered shoreline. Small boats were still being rowed away from shore, making their way to the last remaining ship.
