Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three)

by Cooley, Trevor H.

  “Take out his limbs!” Justan shouted.

  Fist was already there. Despite several broken ribs that Justan could feel through the bond, the ogre swung the hammer with crushing force at the side of the giant’s knee and the impact bent the leg at an odd angle. Gwyrtha leapt onto the giant’s back, using her weight to hold him down.

  “Cheaters! It hurts!” Charz howled. Justan walked up and drew another arrow.

  “Do you yield?”

  “I would never yield to cheaters!” Charz snarled and began to push himself up with his arms despite Gwyrtha’s weight.

  Justan shot the same shoulder he had started the battle with. The giant collapsed back to the ground. Justan drew another arrow and blasted out the other one. The giant lay helpless. “Fist, watch him and make sure these wounds do not heal. As soon as they get back, we’ll leave.”

  The ogre nodded grimly and held the hammer at the ready.

  “Cheaters! Aaaagh!” the giant cried.

  “Shut up Charz, you lost.” Justan said.

  “I never lose! I will hunt you down and eat you alive, every one of you!” the giant snarled.

  “No, I don’t think you will,” Justan said. “I think that you are somehow imprisoned in this place. A monster like you . . .” Justan paused while Fist bashed one of the giant’s knees again, causing another cry of pain to escape Charz’s lips. “You wouldn’t be satisfied with staying in a cave. You would be roaming the countryside challenging the biggest and the best warriors out there.”

  “I can leave whenever I want!” Charz snarled.

  “I can see the magic binding you to this place, you know,” Justan said. “It is a cruel spell, whatever’s keeping you here. I am just glad it’s there so I don’t have to kill you. Though I wonder if the magic can heal your brain . . .” He pulled another arrow back, aiming between the giant’s eyes.

  “You sound mean,” Fist said, an impressed tone in his voice.

  “I know,” Justan responded. “I can’t help myself. He deserves it.”

  “Why they take so long?” Fist asked in concern, looking towards the cave.

  “Why ‘do’ they take so long,” Justan reminded him. “I don’t know. Maybe they are having a hard time finding Buster.”

  “Shut up, you two. I’m in pain, here- argh!” Charz growled as Fist bashed the other wounded leg for good measure.

  They come, Gwyrtha said.

  Justan turned and saw Lenny and Qyxal running towards them. They were both weighed down with bulging sacks slung over their shoulders. Lenny still managed to hold out Buster triumphantly. It didn’t take them long to arrive, though Lenny was hobbling quite a bit.

  “You beat him!” Qyxal said as they came up next to them. He winced at the state the giant was in. “You two are vicious.”

  “Yes,” said Fist as he moved forward and bashed Charz’s shoulder which had stopped bleeding.

  “Aaagh! You . . . Hey, dwarf!” Charz said. “You taking my stuff?”

  “‘Spoils of battle.’ Ain’t that what you called it?” Lenny said with a grin.

  “Well you dwarves live a long time.” The giant snarled. “One day I’m going to escape from here and track you down. I’ll kill you and your friends an-!”

  Lenny dropped the sack and ended the giant’s threat with a two-handed blow to its head so heavy Justan felt it in his feet. The giant’s head cracked down the middle and he stopped moving. The dwarf lifted the hammer and kissed it, getting dust all over his handlebar mustache.

  “Buster’s still singin’!” Lenny said proudly.

  “What did you two find in there?” Justan asked.

  “Later. We need to get goin! That ain’t gonna keep him out fer long.” Lenny said. Sure enough, Justan saw that the wound was closing fast.

  “You aren’t going to kill him?” Qyxal asked the dwarf in disbelief.

  “Nah, we got more than we needed out of him. This should teach that durn rock-biter a lesson,” Lenny said. “’Sides, who knows if we even could?”

  “Right. Let’s go, then,” Justan said.

  Fist bashed the giant’s leg one more time for good measure and they ran.

  Chapter Thirteen

  They didn’t make it very far into the forest before they heard Charz yelling. Boulders began crashing into the trees behind them. The voice didn’t fade as they made their way through the dense leaves. It was evident that he was coming after them.

  “How did he get up and moving so fast?” Justan asked.

  “I don’t know how his magic works,” Qyxal replied. “Maybe he can control how fast he heals. Who knows? We just need to keep moving.”

  They were at a disadvantage with both Lenny and Fist injured. The sacks that the elf and dwarf had brought out of the giant’s cave were extremely heavy. Justan put Lenny on Gwyrtha’s back despite both of their protests, but there was nothing he could do for Fist besides ask that he bear with the pain of his broken ribs as they ran. Qyxal simply could not heal him on the move and they didn’t dare stop. Running as quickly as they were able, the group headed for the spot where they had tethered the horses on the edge of the giant’s territory.

  When they finally reached the forest’s edge and the horses that awaited them, they tied the dwarf’s sacks of loot to the saddles. Qyxal put his hands on Fist’s chest. The ogre’s breathing was ragged and his face was still red from his reaction to the liquor. He was no longer enraged but Justan knew that he felt quite ill.

  “That’s strange,” Qyxal said as he released his hands. “His body’s not reacting to the healing as well as he should. His ribs aren’t broken anymore, but I couldn’t get rid of all the bruising. I’ll try again once we get to safety. Sorry, Fist.”

  The ogre just grunted in response.

  The shouts of the giant were still too faint to make out what he was yelling, but he was getting closer. They mounted the horses and Justan turned to the ogre. “Fist, are you sure you don’t want to try riding Stanza for a little while? Lenny could ride with me for now.”

  Gwyrtha snorted in dismay, glad to have gotten rid of the dwarf.

  “I will run,” Fist said.

  They rode towards the shallows that the supply store owner had promised they would find where the giant’s territory and the WideRiver met. Charz’s shouts faded in the distance and Justan breathed a little easier.

  As they rode, Justan kept a concerned eye on the ogre that ran alongside them. Fist’s steps were uneven and his breathing got more labored as they went. Justan, keeping his body at one with Gwyrtha’s movements, closed his eyes and sent his mage sight into the ogre through the bond.

  His worries grew. Despite the chill air, Fist’s temperature was running hot. His blood vessels seemed swollen and his heartbeat did not sound regular. He had a pounding headache and his skin, still flushed and red, was now covered in welts that Justan had not previously seen because of the clothing the ogre wore.

  Fist, you are sick, he sent.

  I am good, the ogre replied. We are almost there.

  Justan opened his eyes. He was right. They were nearly at the river. They came to the top of a hill and as the ground sloped downward, Justan could see its expanse in front of them. The river was so wide that he could barely make out the shoreline on the far side. The shallows stretched out before them. Rocks and boulders were visible sticking up from the water leaving it white and frothy.

  The forest ended a short distance from the rivers edge and once they reached the shore, Justan called a halt. Fist swayed on his feet as they stopped. Justan ran over and made him sit down. Squirrel darted about on the ogre from shoulder to shoulder, chattering in concern before finally curling up around Fist’s neck.

  Fist held his head in his hands and mumbled, “It is ok, Squirrel. Just need rest.”

  “Qyxal,” Justan called. “Fist isn’t doing well. I think he had a bad reaction to the firewater. His chest is broken out in welts.”

  The elf dismounted and put his hands on the ogre. Justan co
uld see the magic pouring from his fingers. Qyxal concentrated and a frown pulled down the corners of his mouth.

  “You are right Justan. Unfortunately, I-I can’t just . . . heal that. The alcohol is in his blood and whatever is affecting him has spread throughout his entire body. Broken bones are one thing but this is beyond my skills. If I had something specific to treat . . .” The elf looked into the ogre’s eyes. “Fist, what is bothering you the most?”

  “Head hurts. Skin itches.”

  “I can help with the headache at least.” Qyxal reached into Fist’s head with his magic and soothed the swollen vessels, reducing the pain. “It will last only so long though. The reaction will subside on its own eventually, but until your system purges your blood of the alcohol, the headache will just come back again. I’ll see if I can get your liver working faster . . .”

  “There’s somethin’ else son,” Lenny remarked. He pointed out over the river. “Looks like the shallows extend all the way to the other side as far as I can see, but it’s gonna be rough goin’. You see them rocks, in the water there? There’s a crossable path between the boulders, but the currents’re gonna be strong and the water could still be purty deep in spots.”

  “Do we need to find another place to cross?” Justan asked, eyeing the water with concern.

  “Nah, the horses’ll get us across I think. But it won’t be easy on ‘em.”

  “It’s not just the horses we need to worry about,” Qyxal reminded. “The water is going to be freezing cold and with Fist being ill, I don’t know if we can afford to cross it right now.”

  “Then we should wait until he feels better,” Justan said. “That should give us the time to figure out how best to cross anyway. Qyxal, would it help if-?”

  They were interrupted by a crash in the forest not too far away. Justan turned and saw a tree move at the top of the incline. The giant’s voice cried out in triumph. He must have found their trail at his territory’s edge. Justan’s stomach dropped.

  “Aw hell! Dag-burned dirt-eater’s determined to make us kill him,” Lenny growled.

  “Saddle up!” Justan said. “Sorry Fist, we need to keep going. Can you stand?”

  The ogre rose to his feet on shaky legs. “I can fight.”

  “What do we do?” Qyxal asked. “I don’t have enough magic left in me to cast that spell we spoke about and we are too tired to fight. We could retreat and come back later, but he could just sit out here on the shoreline waiting for us and we might never get across.”

  “We have few choices.” Justan said. “We could go downstream out of his range and come back to fight him later, or go even further down and try to find a place to cross elsewhere, or-.”

  “Ha! Thought you could get away did you?” Charz boomed. He was making his way down the incline and Justan knew that he would be upon them soon.

  Was it really a good idea to come back later and fight him again? The giant knew their tactics now and Justan couldn’t give Fist any more firewater. Qyxal’s spell could possibly kill the giant, but what if it didn’t work? If they traveled downstream further would they find another crossing as good as this one? He didn’t know.

  “We start across now.” Justan decided. He pointed at the markings on the trees at the edge of the forest. “His territory ends here! He shouldn’t be able to follow us into the river.”

  They galloped down the bank and into the water. Lenny and Qyxal took the lead followed by Fist. Justan and Gwyrtha came behind him. Justan wanted to make sure the ogre didn’t falter and get swept away. Lenny kept them on the best possible path he could find through the shallows, weaving through the boulders and never letting the water get more than a couple feet deep, but the rocks were slippery and the water swift, making the footing treacherous. If one of the horses broke a leg, they were in deep trouble.

  The water was so cold that there were still pieces of ice floating in it from the colder weather upstream. Fist and Gwyrtha were both miserable. The ogre was shivering already and the water hadn’t reached his knees yet. Justan was just beginning to think he had made the worst possible decision when the first boulder fell.

  Charz had found them. The giant stood on the shoreline taunting them and picking up more rocks. His wounds were still fairly grievous. The giant was limping and one shoulder still had a gaping wound from Ma’am’s last arrow strike. He must have somehow forced the magic to heal his legs just enough to get him mobile before he came after them. Why he wasn’t healed completely by now, Justan had no idea.

  They had only made it a quarter of the way across the river and there was no way to hide or dodge the incoming rocks. They were fortunate that the giant’s accuracy was affected by his injuries and none of his throws had hit their marks. They continued to make their way as quickly as they could through the water with boulders splashing all around them.

  One of Charz’s boulders landed not a foot from Fist. The ogre slipped and fell forward and the swift current nearly pulled him into the deeper water. He was able to struggle back to his feet, but his already bruised and battered body expended a lot of energy to do so. Both he and Squirrel were now soaked with the icy water. Squirrel was quite indignant about it too, chattering up a storm.

  Justan told Gwyrtha to stop and turn to face the shore. He pulled Ma’am from his shoulder and cocked back an arrow just as Charz released another boulder. From the arc of the shot, Justan could tell that Lenny and Qyxal were in serious danger. He let his thoughts and emotions go, focused on the target, and released. The boulder disappeared into a cloud of rock and dust mid-flight.

  The time for mercy had passed. The giant would have to die. Justan pulled back another arrow and aimed between Charz’ eyes. The look on Charz’s face stopped him. He no longer looked triumphant or cocky. He seemed so desperate, so afraid to lose that Justan felt a sense of pity twang within him. Suddenly it felt wrong to kill him. Justan changed his target at the last second.

  The elbow on the giant’s throwing arm exploded in a shower of flesh and rock. The boulder he was about to throw fell to the ground and his forearm now dangled uselessly at his side. Charz’s scream of agony echoed across the water, causing the rest of the party to look behind them.

  “Yeah! Got the dag-blasted rock-biter!” Lenny cried.

  Justan didn’t feel so triumphant. Charz fell to the ground, cradling his ruined arm. The giant was weeping in pain and failure. Justan felt sorry for him. What a miserable existence the giant lived. Justan turned Gwyrtha around and moved to catch up with the others. Had he done the right thing? Perhaps it would have been better if he had killed him after all.

  He didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on the giant for long. They reached half way across the river and the water had gotten deeper. Lenny scanned for a safer path to follow, but Fist was fading fast. Justan had to do something. He gripped Gwyrtha’s mane tightly, leaned in close, and asked her to be careful with her movements. He closed his eyes and left his body behind, focusing all his attention on Fist through the bond.

  What he saw frightened him. Fist’s clothes were soaked and his temperature was no longer high, but alarmingly low. Whatever Qyxal had done was working. His body had removed much of the alcohol from his blood and the rash was nearly gone, but the positive effects had faded as well. His energy was down and his heartbeat had slowed. Fist’s thoughts were a jumble and it was a struggle for him to put one foot in front of the other.

  Justan tried to speak with him, but Fist was in such a trancelike state, that communication was impossible. Instead, Justan headed further into the ogre’s consciousness, pushing the cold and the weariness from his mind and replacing them with feelings of warmth and comfort. He convinced Fist that it was a hot, sunny day and the water wasn’t cold; it was refreshing. On the other side of the river was a picnic. The ogre didn’t understand that concept, but he understood that there would be food and a place to take a nap.

  Fist’s steps picked up. A grin crossed his face. He was in a dreaming state now and Justan’s
thoughts kept him moving.

  He continued to feed these thoughts and emotions to the ogre, but Fist’s body was starting to shut down. The ogre was shivering. Despite the increased movement, his circulation had slowed.

  Justan hid these facts from Fist, keeping him moving, but he didn’t know how long the ogre would be able to keep it up. In desperation, Justan reached back through the bond and grasped all the energy he could muster from within his own body. He struggled to bring it back with him through the bond and to his relief, he was able to pull it through.