by R A Oakes
“It’s an acquired taste,” Prophet said. But he, too, felt gargoyles tasted terrible.
As the tigers squared off against their opponents, Prophet said, “Remember as soon as these two go down, I’m heading for Swarenth. Change into a human quickly and don’t look back. Just get out of here.”
“I appreciate your giving me this chance.”
“You were never much fun to talk to anyway. I’m glad to be free of you.”
Chaktar smiled.
Both tigers were now silent, taking a moment to set up this last kill. Then, with surprising energy, Prophet reared up on his hind legs, clawed vigorously at the air with his front paws, made an ear-splitting growl and exuded such an aura of fierce power that both gargoyle warriors were thrown off balance.
Filled with years of pent-up frustration, explosive waves of energy poured out of Prophet like a hurricane slamming against the winged apes and reverberating throughout the arena leaving no one unaffected. Just like in the old days, this huge tiger was intimidating not just his opponents but all those in the stands as well.
Stunned by the torrential flood of Prophet’s energy, the gargoyle facing Chaktar glanced away from the young tiger, and this proved to be a fatal mistake. With his own incredible display of power, Chaktar took full advantage of the opportunity and leapt at his opponent. The young tiger clamped his jaws on the gargoyle’s sword arm, bit down hard and heard the bones snap. Instantly, the winged ape let out a terrifying, high-pitched scream, and the gargoyles in the grandstands shifted nervously in their seats. The experience was so intense that many felt like their own flesh was being torn apart.
Adding to the pandemonium was how Prophet took down his own opponent. With one huge paw, the old tiger struck the gargoyle on the side of the head almost knocking him senseless, and then Prophet, with claws fully extended, slashed the winged ape’s face virtually shredding it. The gargoyle began screaming hysterically, adding to the unbridled cries of agony from Chaktar’s opponent, and the crowd was further unnerved.
What came next was even worse.
Prophet and Chaktar began circling their opponents while making loud, rumbling growls. In the grandstands, the crowd collectively held its breath steeling themselves for the inevitable, and the tigers made them wait. The big cats caused the gargoyle warriors and all those in the arena to experience a sense of their own mortality. This was intimidation at its best.
“Now!” Prophet shouted.
“What?” Chaktar asked in surprise.
“I’m going for Swarenth, so change into a human.”
“These two guys aren’t dead yet,” Chaktar said stating the obvious.
“But we’ve got those in the grandstands mesmerized and in such a state of shock that they’re stunned into immobility. My leaping at Swarenth now will add to their feelings of overwhelming devastation, and no one in this arena’s going to budge so much as an inch. When you change into a human, it’s going to add to their confusion, and I can virtually guarantee that not a single gargoyle will come after you,” Prophet explained.
“I’ll never be as good as you. I’ve never seen anyone read a crowd like you can. How do you do it?”
“I don’t know. I just do,” the older tiger said as they both continued circling the gargoyle warriors.
Chaktar looked at his mentor, a tiger who he now realized was a better big cat than himself, and felt a pang of sadness. “Prophet, go any further with this plan, and you’ll be killed.”
“I know that.”
“How can you face death so calmly? For you, there’s no possibility of escape.”
“We all die sometime.”
Falling silent, Prophet took a few seconds to gather his courage, and then his cat’s eyes locked onto their target. With great, bounding strides the huge tiger raced towards the section of the wall directly in front of the platform where Swarenth was sitting.
Every eye in the arena was on Prophet, the tiger with the powerful, mesmerizing energy. In a moment, they watched spellbound as Prophet leapt to the top of the wall surrounding the fighting area. Next, after positioning his hind feet firmly on the top of the barrier, he catapulted himself at the gargoyle warlord with what looked like effortless ease.
Realizing he was caught up, like everyone else, in Prophet’s boldness, Chaktar ripped himself from the gravitational pull of the old tiger’s charisma. Glancing around, he realized no one was watching and quickly transformed into human form. Scooping up a sword from the ground, the tiger- man headed towards a door that had opened on the far side of the arena. A gargoyle, having wanted to get a better look at the action, was watching the unnerving spectacle up close and personal.
Seeing Chaktar sprinting directly towards him only added to the winged ape’s sense of shock and surprise. But the tiger-man, using the flat side of his sword’s blade, wacked the gargoyle on the head, knocked him unconscious and put an end to the winged ape’s confusion. Chaktar hadn’t needed to kill the gargoyle, which was fortunate, for the naked tiger-man needed something to wear, and all he could think of was the winged ape’s tunic. Chaktar was thankful there wasn’t any blood on it. Gargoyle blood was disgusting.
General Zarkahn and Rathlor were sitting on the platform next to Swarenth when Prophet turned and raced towards the arena wall in front of them. Being able to anticipate the actions of an enemy is one of a general’s most important skills, and General Zarkahn guessed the big cat’s intent almost immediately. He quickly placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. Now he was ready to take action, but not too soon. First, he wanted to allow the huge tiger racing towards them to place Swarenth in grave danger.
General Zarkahn thought, If I play this right, Swarenth will be deeply indebted to me.
The general appreciated the big cat’s courage, but what he appreciated even more was the opportunity to further his own political ends.
As Prophet turned himself into a flying projectile heading right for Swarenth, the tiger’s head and jaws seemed larger than ever.
Chapter 14
Skybrook Castle.
While Chaktar and Prophet were fighting in the small arena at Dominion Castle, Lord Pensgraft found himself facing a human panther that was as dangerous as any big cat, his wife, Chen. The two able warriors were alone in the great hall when Lord Pensgraft made the mistake of treating his wife in a paternalistic manner.
“Have you been getting enough rest? Sometimes I worry that you’re overexerting yourself.”
Chen looked at him with an annoyed expression. “I’m doing just fine.”
“Are you eating properly? Caring for Dylancia while reorganizing this castle’s a lot of work.”
“Really?” she said with a hint of sarcasm.
Lord Pensgraft knew he was treading on dangerous ground. Even hinting that his wife wasn’t totally self-reliant was to court disaster. But he still worried about this sensitive woman who shielded herself with a lot of hard bark. He pressed on.
“I know how much you want another child. What if we do get pregnant during all this turmoil?”
“We’ll manage just fine. You’re stressing out over stuff that hasn’t even happened yet.”
“All I’m saying is that you’re as delicately feminine as you are strong and forceful. You’re as vulnerable as you are tough, and I don’t want you to end up straining yourself.”
Chen looked up. Storm clouds were forming in her eyes, but she tried to hold her anger in check. Many women would have welcomed a husband’s concern, but pointing a finger at the black leather panther’s weaknesses only made her mad.
She was aware of being highly defensive at times, but that was necessary given the way life is.
“You think positive,” she’d once told Lord Pensgraft in a disdainful tone of voice, as if she were pointing out the lax, irresponsible thinking of a child. “In any given situation, I try to figure out how people can hurt me.”
Lord Pensgraft sometimes felt that believing in others was a way of bringing out the best
in people. Trusting others sometimes inspired trustworthiness. He knew that being open involved risk, but he preferred drawing people out by giving them enough room to reveal themselves, one way or another, for better or worse.
Chen had no time for such subtleties. People were out for themselves. Why pretend otherwise?
But as her husband continued his patient probing, she tried to rein in her frustration with his attempts at kindness. She preferred emotional detachment and believed that separating oneself from one’s feelings allowed a much clearer view of the facts. Lord Pensgraft’s insistence that she be in touch with her inner self could be maddening at times.
“Emotions cause nothing but confusion and pain,” she’d once told him.
“But it’s worth it,” he’d responded.
Not to Chen.
But she did love him. He was just so blind to human nature at times. However, she understood that he wanted closeness due to his having fear of abandonment issues. Every woman he’d ever been close to had either been killed or taken from him.
How healthy could it be for a young boy to see his mother killed right in front of his eyes? Lord Pensgraft had experienced that. It was so traumatic that he hadn’t spoken afterwards for three months.
He’d gotten over the haunting nightmares by the time he and his first wife had Aerylln, and it had been a time of great joy for the intuitive giant now sitting next to Chen. But when his first wife died a tragic death as well, he’d almost collapsed. Then, knowing that evil forces of enormous power were seeking Aerylln, he’d placed the young girl with Mistress Xan, a powerful sorceress, for her own protection.
Cut adrift from the women he loved, Lord Pensgraft had languished, feeling lost and alone. Chen thought, He tries so hard to be close because he’s frightened of falling backwards into the dark well of loss that’s inside of him.
She’d once told him, “You’re terrified I’ll leave you.”
Bull’s-eye! Nothing could be closer to the truth.
Then, when Dylancia was born, Lord Pensgraft had been ecstatic. However, his excitement was overshadowed by the fear of losing his baby girl, and not only Dylancia, but Chen and Aerylln as well. The lord of The Rock had rediscovered that love was a double-edged sword.
But Chen was beginning to lose patience with her husband, and his next statement took her to her limit.
“There’s a little girl deep inside of you who’s easily frightened. I just want you to feel safe enough so you can experience your child-like side.”
Chen rolled her eyes, took a deep breath and said, “Okay, you’ve had your say, now it’s my turn.”
When Lord Pensgraft heard the restrained anger in her voice, he knew he was in for it.
“Big guy, I’ve been taking care of myself just fine. I don’t know why you worry that I wouldn’t be. I’m not stressed out at all.”
The giant looked around for some place to hide from his wife’s coming wrath. He saw an open window, but since the great hall was several stories up, he decided things weren’t bad enough to make him want to jump. Yet.
“I don’t know why you keep trying to reassure yourself that I have this vulnerable side that needs to be looked after, but let me assure you that out of all of my many traits and qualities, a child-like innocence isn’t exactly in my book.
“Also, I see everyone and everything coming a mile away,” Chen explained to him in a firm but controlled tone of voice. “And if I don’t, it’s because I’ve blocked it out in one way or another. So vulnerable doesn’t fit me either. And aside from spiders, when you can give me one thing I’m truly frightened of then we’ll talk. But until then, frightened can go out the window too.”
Lord Pensgraft felt the force of his wife’s incredible will power. It filled his intuitive nature making him feel very heavy. Soon, it was like she was inside of him speaking, and even with her moderate tone the volume seemed painful. It pushed at the outer edges of his being stretching and testing the elasticity of his spirit. It was an exhausting experience, and it was like this every time they argued.
Chen had a lead backbone. She was like a weight that just wore you down.
But he brightened as she paid him a compliment. “Overall, I’m proud of you and the job you’re doing as a husband and father. However, ‘hard ass’ is one of my traits, and with that said, our marriage still does need work.”
Lord Pensgraft thought, Well, it was a partial compliment at least.
“For the most part, I’m happy with how things have turned out,” Chen added.
Lord Pensgraft should have quit while he was ahead. But the giant loved intensity. His need to express himself was so great that by the time he’d fully done so, he’d pretty much swamped his listener. Lord Pensgraft couldn’t overwhelm Chen, but he could sure get her mad.
What a pair they were. He loved living on the edge emotionally. She frequently liked to think of herself as being the master of objectivity. Talk about opposites being attracted to each other!
Lord Pensgraft was now in an expansive mood. He thought he’d tell his wife how much he admired her, cared for her, needed her and was inspired by her. The giant became a raging torrent of emotions. However, for Chen, being the object of such praise was like being beneath a thundering, pounding, crushing waterfall. It was something she wanted to escape.
Oblivious to his wife’s feelings and driven by his own powerful, oversized emotions, Lord Pensgraft stepped to the precipice of his own destruction and began gushing. Praise and energy poured out of every pore of his body. He felt free, uninhibited and experienced a great sense of release. The giant warrior told his wife how he loved her with every fiber of his being. He gave her 100 pounds of love when one would have sufficed. It’s not that Chen rejected his love, she just didn’t like him talking about it.
To Chen’s way of thinking, if she told you once that she loved you, that should take care of it. Such a statement applied indefinitely, or until she told you otherwise. Chen loved her husband, and he loved her. But why did he want to say it over and over?
The more the hulking giant gushed, the more she felt suffocated. They cared about each other, but no one ever said love was easy.
As Lord Pensgraft expounded further, he smiled and said, “I’m pleased with our marriage, too. You have no idea how our time together helps me. Just being near you strengthens me.
“I need your power, your strength, your drive and ambition. I need your force of personality, your intense nature and your confrontational, defiant attitude. I need your confidence and the way you use anger to motivate yourself at times and to give yourself greater determination.”
What saved him was that at least he hadn’t tried to hug her. Chen liked her space.
However, Lord Pensgraft was pleased with himself for being able to express his wife’s good points with such clarity. Also, by accepting his wife’s quick temper and propensity for violence, the giant hoped to show he accepted her totally.
Chen sighed and held her peace.
“You’re the most intelligent woman I’ve ever known. You’re so well-informed, and your talents seem endless. You’re fascinating,” Lord Pensgraft said as he smiled once again, sure that he’d pleased his mercurial wife.
But he was wrong.
With a directness that could be unnerving, Chen began her rebuttal and said, “Since the day we first met, you’ve told me over and over about how being near me helps you to achieve your goals in life. So, with that in mind, I think I’ve pretty much gotten the hint of what you’re trying to say. But what you haven’t understood is the way reality actually works.”
Lord Pensgraft had a sinking feeling inside as he realized that he’d somehow managed to offend Chen once more.
“And no, I’m not trying to be rude,” she explained. “I’m just pointing out that regardless of how many times you tell me that being near me is important to your desire and ability to excel, there’s something you need to accept.”
“Yes?”
“I ha
ve my own goals that I’m trying to reach, and it’s not always going to be possible for you to be near me. I wasn’t born to make your life easier or to be your source for direct success. Helping you, maybe, but not doing it for you. I have my own lessons to teach and to learn, as much as you do, and one lesson you haven’t caught onto yet is that, yes, I may be your source of inspiration but only a source. True inspiration comes from within.”
Wisely, Lord Pensgraft remained silent and listened. He’d learned from experience that his wife’s viewpoints always made sense.
“You’re more capable on your own than you realize. You’re just too damn stubborn to admit it to yourself. No, I’m not saying we can’t ever be close, I’m just saying it’s not fair when you try putting the responsibility on me for whether or not you find it within yourself to grow and achieve. One of these days, you’ll realize that if you do badly, it’s your fault. If you do great, you did it. Not me. I just helped.”
With that, Chen spun on her heel and walked out of the great hall.
Just before the argument started, Corson’s friend, Balder, had been coming down a stairwell leading into the great hall and had remained on the stairs and out of the way. Now, he quietly went down the last few steps, headed over to Lord Pensgraft, a man he both respected and admired, and asked, “So what’s worse, a new mother or a teenage daughter?”
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t give up either of them.”
“She seemed pretty mad just now,” Balder said.
“She didn’t say she doesn’t love me.”
“And that gives you enough hope to keep your love for her alive?”
“It’s all the hope I’ll ever need. I’ll love her until she kills me,” Lord Pensgraft said.
“She won’t kill you.”
“To end my life, all she has to do is tell me that she no longer loves me. Then, I’ll make my way to the first enemy I can find, and I won’t stop killing until every enemy on earth is dead, or I am.”
