Monster Hunter Siege-eARC
Page 37
The Fey said something. All the other Fey laughed at me. That really pissed me off. I didn’t speak their language but it had to be something like “Dance for my amusement, monkey.”
I hoisted the clumsy mace. “Bring it then.”
He swung the sword gracefully, spinning, twirling, showing off for his friends, the blade leaping from hand to hand faster than my eye could follow. This guy could sword fight like Edward the Orc.
I didn’t even see him strike. The sword just came out of nowhere. He hit me in the leg. Then it swung up and cracked me in the neck. The monster pulled back. It stung, but I should have been squirting blood everywhere. He’d only hit me with the flat. The knight was toying with me. He would mock me first, then kill me. The Wild Hunt were dicks.
I threw the mace at him.
The knight easily blocked it with his sword, but he hadn’t been expecting me to follow it by tackling him around the waist. We hit the ground hard. Air shot out from his lungs. Fey were tall, but they were lithe, graceful. I was a lot of dense angry human, and four feet of sword didn’t mean shit once I was on top of him.
The Fey struck me with his fist, but I trapped his sword with my knee, spied a flat rock about a foot across, picked it up in both hands, and went to town on his helmet with it. Green sparks flew with every hit, magic absorbing some of the impact, but I was still ringing his bell. His gauntlets scratched down my face, but I just kept hammering away.
The other Fey could have easily stepped in and stopped me, but it turned out they really did respect a one on one challenge, because they stood there while I beat their companion’s face in. My fingers were bleeding around the rock as calluses tore. The green sparks ran dry, and then the helmet deformed like regular metal. At some point the Fey had passed out or died, because he quit trying to choke me. I beat him until the lion’s face was a deformed mess and they would have to cut the helmet off with a can opener.
I staggered up and tossed the bloody, cracked rock at the feet of the nearest creature. The monster horse snorted and pawed nervously at it. That knight on top poked at the rock with his spear.
I was breathing so hard it was difficult to talk. “That’s three…” I groaned as I bent over and picked up the mace again. “Who’s next?”
Say what you will about Fey knights, but they weren’t cowardly. Four of them dismounted at the same time, and promptly got into an argument over which one would get the honor of taking my head. Good. I needed a moment to catch my breath. I was scared to death and trying not to show it. I was totally surrounded. Fey were lining up to take a shot at the title. Dirty tricks weren’t going to work again. These things were proud, but they weren’t stupid. The next one wasn’t going to show off. He was going to cut me down.
The argument was interrupted when their Huntsman walked purposefully into their midst. When they saw him they immediately quit their jabbering and began to bow and scrape. He must have been outraged, because with a swipe of his hand a gust of tornado wind knocked the four Fey sprawling. Their beasts let out fearful whines.
The Huntsman strode toward me, red eyes glowing like Christmas lights beneath his bat mask. Well over seven feet tall, he was walking destruction cloaked in a crackling green halo. The raindrops flashed into steam when they hit him. The plants he brushed past immediately wilted and turned brown. His voice was a terrible growl. My ears rang as he twisted magic to make his words understood.
“I am next.”
CHAPTER 24
The Huntsman loomed over me, a being of pure malevolent Fey magic. There was a sword sheathed at his waist, but he hadn’t bothered to draw it yet. I probably wasn’t worth the effort. The bat wing helmet tilted as he studied the corpses littering the ground. The horse thing I had crippled was still screaming. The Huntsman must have been tired of listening to it, because he pointed at it, and the creature simply died.
I was so screwed…
He studied me for a time. I tried to look intimidating. It probably didn’t work.
“I have been misled. This is no mere human…” his voice was low and dangerous.
Another Fey had followed their leader. From the eagle beak visor it was Riochedare, the one I’d threatened at their fort, and he’d gone from haughty to sniveling and obsequious. “As I said, my lord, he is a powerful warlock, worthy of your—”
“Fool. Can you not see the chains upon him? This one has been claimed by another. He was not our prey to chase.”
“Forgive me! I did not—” but then Riochedare’s head departed from his neck in a rather spectacularly violent manner.
I jumped back. I hadn’t even seen the Huntsman draw his sword. “Whoa!” The head went bouncing down the ridge, helmet magically sparking against every rock it hit. The blow had cleaved through his neck so cleanly that it took the body a moment to realize it was dead before it fell over.
“Mistakes have been made.” The rest of the Fey had gathered around, but none of them seemed very surprised at their leader randomly decapitating one of them. “Though my Hunt has been banished, I wish to someday be allowed to return to my court. I would not further displease our queen by starting a war with another faction.”
“Okay.” I looked at the headless Fey, then at the absurdly dangerous sword he’d swung as if it weighed nothing. “Shit happens. Let’s just chalk this one up to a cross cultural failure to communicate, and go our separate ways with no hard feelings.”
“You are amusing.” The Huntsman had a cruel laugh. All the other Fey joined in. The laughter went on for a bit. I even gave them a nervous smile. His laughter stopped abruptly. “No.”
I shouldn’t have got my hopes up.
“Perhaps if we had come to this understanding before you stole my property, human…”
“That property happened to be friends of mine. We frown on that kind of thing where I’m from.”
“We are clearly not where you are from.”
“This isn’t your home either. We’re both stuck here.”
“Do not pretend that you are in any way my equal. I have been banished here longer than you have been alive. By your pathetic standards, I am an immortal. I am astonished any faction would be so foolish as to pick such a worm to be their champion.”
I was desperate, but really doubted I was going to be able to talk my way out of this. “We can still make some sort of deal.”
He didn’t need to think it over for very long. “Once a hunt has begun, honor demands that it be seen through to the end. The horn has been sounded. This prey has shed our blood and stolen our goods. You’ve killed several of my knights and it will take a long time to grow enough falairdirs to replace the ones you crippled. Some of us will have to walk home. To return empty handed now would bring unforgivable shame upon my Hunt. My queen will understand.”
“Let’s be reasonable.” That was an ironic thing to say, standing in the middle of a mass murder of my creation. “My people have made arrangements with Fey before.”
“I was told about that event. That was another kingdom with a far different court, possessing a queen far more forgiving of humans than mine. Besides, that princess was a twit. They were glad to be rid of her…For us, this insult can only be rectified through the shedding of blood.”
“You might be surprised whose blood gets shed today, Fey.”
“Do not be confused. I specifically meant your blood.”
“Damn, you things are literal.”
The Huntsman lifted his sword and touched it against his helmet in salute. Green sparks leapt between the two. “You have made this hunt a challenge, our first real struggle in a very long time. There is beauty in the hard chase. For this, I thank you.”
For once I didn’t really know what to say. “You’re welcome?”
“The greatest part of the chase is the end, that moment when the prey reaches their final understanding, the enlightenment that can only be achieved by passing from one world into another. This is my gift to you. Do not worry, human. I would not dishonor you
by offering a quick or painless death. I would not rob you of the experience…Let us begin.”
The weird mace was way too big and balanced all wrong. The handle was too fat, made for long spindly Fey fingers. Plus, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, and was up against a monster who clearly did. I lifted the mace anyway, because damn it, I wasn’t going down without a fight. We began to circle.
I lunged for him, but by the Huntsman’s standards, I was slow and clumsy.
Clang.
With a lightning fast flick of the wrist, the Huntsman struck. My stolen weapon went flying off so hard the spikes were embedded in a tree. He had moved so smoothly that I was left staring at my stinging fingers, dumbfounded.
The Fey all laughed at my misfortune.
“I see that it begins to dawn upon you, just how insignificant you really are.” The Huntsman smoothly sheathed his sword, then raised his massive metal gauntlets, fists high and knuckles toward me like an old fashioned gentleman boxer. “Since you are now disarmed, let us keep this sporting.”
Since he was covered in magic metal, he either didn’t understand how delicate human hands really are, or Fey had a drastically different definition of sporting. The rest of the knights had dismounted and were clustered around us, excited to watch their leader bludgeon me to death. They began chanting something, probably their Huntsman’s name.
The Fey wasn’t nearly as smooth with his bare hands as he was with a sword, but he was still faster than me and had arms like a gorilla. I barely moved back in time as the gauntlet whistled past my ear. He surged up, the next shot came from below, hit me in the abdomen, lifted me off the ground, and sent me skidding back.
Ooof. The Huntsman hit as hard as Franks. I staggered into some of the other knights, and they roughly shoved me back into the circle.
The ground was covered in slick rocks and mud, but his footing was sure. He was a foot taller than I was with corresponding reach. I couldn’t find anything to use to my advantage. One of the Fey must have kicked Cazador off to the side because I couldn’t see it. The bolo rope they’d tossed at me was hanging from a bush, but I didn’t know what to do with that. I still had my knife, but drawing it would probably just give him an excuse to go back to his sword, and then I was toast.
I was able to stay ahead of his next few casual attacks, but then he caught me with a backhand that sent me rolling through the mud. Only a few fingertips had clipped me, but made of metal and moving that fast, had still split my face open. By the time I got up my left eye was starting to swell shut.
Head aching, abs burning, I got up, and kept circling away. If I tried to run the other Fey would just push me back in. He kept following, almost leisurely. I couldn’t see his hideous face under the mask, but I bet he was smiling. The Fey were having a grand time at this. When they got bored, he’d finish me. My only consolation was that this circus was giving my people time to get away.
But stalling wasn’t good enough. I really wanted to kill this asshole.
He swung an almost comical haymaker at me. I ducked, because otherwise it would have been like getting hit by a car, but then I came up inside and went on the offensive. I kicked his knee, but might as well have kicked a brick wall, because my boot bounded off in a shower of green sparks. I searched for something I could punch without breaking my hand, but had to settle for shoving hard against his breastplate. All that did was move me back and sting my palms.
I retreated past his retaliatory swing, but I wasn’t running, I was analyzing. Everything had a vulnerability. Like Earl said, all sorts of things were supposed to be immortal, until you figured out a way to kill them. Rifle bullets bounced off his magical plate, but there had to be gap, something that I could exploit. Only I saw no exposed skin or cloth. He was sealed up like a space suit.
The Huntsman was cocky, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d felt that kick, and if he wasn’t magically invulnerable, would have been crippled. He kept following, but his manner had changed slightly. This was still just a game to him, but a potentially dangerous one, and he was a bit more wary. His helmet turned as he looked over his men, probably checking to see if they had noticed his momentary hesitation, because no leader wanted to look chicken about squishing one little human.
Only when he turned his head, he showed me a way to kill him.
I went over to the bush and picked up the rope. It was actually three cords stuck together, each about three feet long, with a big knot on each end.
“What’s it going to do with that? Lead my steed?” one of the Fey knights shouted. The others laughed.
But the Huntsman knew I was up to something. He intended to end this. The red eyes behind that helmet were burning hot as the glowing monstrosity charged.
Good.
At the last instant I flicked the rope toward his eyes.
I didn’t expect it to actually hurt him, I only needed to make him blink. My bullets had already proven that Fey knights instinctively flinched just like us.
It worked. Involuntary reaction meant closed eyes. I ducked beneath his outstretched arms as they shot past. The fancy helmet must have cost him some peripheral vision, because it took him a split second to realize I’d gotten behind him.
Turning his head earlier had shown me that there was a gap in the magical armor at the neck. The Fey knights shouted warnings as I reached way up and grabbed the batwings on his helmet. I yanked back as hard as I could. I don’t care how friggin’ tough you are, when somebody’s cranking back on your vertebra with the big stupid levers you provided on top of your head, you go down.
I didn’t want him to fall all the way. As he toppled I went for my knife. His helmet landed on my shoulder, and the instant it tilted back far enough to reveal his wrinkly grey-green throat, I dropped the curved edge of my kukri on it. Skin instantly parted.
I stopped.
So did the Huntsman. He was precariously off balance, leaning back, knees bent, with a heavy, razor sharp blade resting on his throat. The only thing holding him up was me, and the only thing keeping his head attached was my rapidly dwindling patience. Green blood began oozing around the wound. He knew I had him.
I was breathing so hard it took me a second to form the words. “Who’s laughing now, bitch?”
Outraged, the Fey knights surged forward.
“Stop!” the Huntsman bellowed.
I could have sliced him wide open. We both knew it.
Those red eyes were right next to mine. A metal bat wing was smashed against my ear. We were so close I could hear his breathing and the rain pinging off his armor.
“I thought we agreed to be honorable, human. I sheathed my blade.”
“You ride flying dinosaurs to chase down unarmed starving men. Shove your honor up your ass. I didn’t agree to anything. Now you’re going to listen and do exactly what I tell you. I sharpen this thing so religiously I don’t even need to push. I let go and gravity will cut you. If I so much as feel the slightest twinkle of Fey magic or fairy dust or whatever the hell you dickbags use, I take your head. Got it?”
The Huntsman couldn’t even nod without risk. “Your threat is understood.”
I eyed the assembled Fey. They were a ton of them, and they were all supremely ticked, and ready to make a move. “You wanted to know why some faction chose me? Because I’m really good at killing things like you. Your boys try anything, I’ll give them a demonstration.”
“Very well…” The Huntsman seemed relatively calm. “How do you wish to proceed, human?”
I wasn’t exactly sure. It wasn’t like I could walk my giant deadly hostage the rest of the way. “First, we’re all going to stand here like this until I’m sure my friends are safely back on Earth.”
“How will you know when this occurs?”
“I don’t know yet. So you’d better pray to whatever Fey pray to that my arm doesn’t get tired before then. After that we’re going to revisit our earlier discussion about how I’m going to walk away and we forget we ever met.”
Somehow Jason Lococo had appeared in the circle of Fey. His hood was up, and still wreathed in foliage, he looked like some primeval forest creature. I could barely see his face, but there was no mistaking that hulking figure. “Well done. That was impressive.” He stopped the ironic clapping and put one foot casually up on the dead horse thing’s side. He folded his arms and leaned on his knee. “As many as you’ve destroyed, you’d think monsters would have learned not to underestimate you by now.”
The Fey knights seemed more surprised to see Lococo standing there than I was. Swords which had been intended for me were quickly shifted in his direction. The Huntsman hissed a warning in his language. That really seemed to scare them, as every one of the Fey knights assembled took a nervous step away from the overwhelmingly outnumbered Lococo.
Ghost or Fey trick, I didn’t know what he was, but I kept tension on my knife. “VanZant told me how Jason died. Who are you?” Nervous, I shifted my attention back to my prisoner. “Who is he?”
But the terrifying Huntsman didn’t respond to me, instead he addressed Lococo. Even though I was ready to cut his throat, it was like the new interloper was the far greater threat. There was genuine fear in his voice. “Forgive us. We meant no insult. Please. I beg. We did not know it was you who had laid claim upon this human’s life.”
“Well, you sure screwed up then,” Lococo growled.
Something was terribly wrong. The knights were shifting, trying to decide between fight or flight. Their hound beasts had lowered their heads and were whining.
But worst of all, out of nowhere, the rain stopped. The silence was deafening.
“Please…” The Huntsman actually sounded terrified now. “Spare us, great one.”
“Who is he?” I demanded again. “Who!”
The Huntsman never got to answer, because an invisible weight fell on top of my kukri. It chopped through his neck like a guillotine. The Huntsman thrashed, trying desperately to get away, but it was as if we were both locked in place. “No!” I tried to pull the blade away, but the downward force increased. I couldn’t let go, like a vice had clamped around my fingers. I was hit in the eyes with arterial spray. The force let up once the arteries and trachea were severed. I gasped and stepped away, covered in green blood. The Huntsman dropped in the mud, reaching for his ruined throat, legs kicking spasmodically.