The Leopard Stratagem (Leopard King Saga Book 2)

by T. A. Uner

“Aim for the heart, Girl!” Tullus called out to the Leopardess. She growled back her thanks before Tullus slammed Leopardhide’s boss into the chestplate of his closest attacker. He found a small opening in the mail of his opponent and thrust LeopardClaw into the Wolfguard’s chest. Black blood welled up around the wound while Tullus pushed LeopardClaw deeper. The Wolfguard howled in pain and collapsed face down in the snow while an expanding puddle of black blood seeped out from under him.

  Aurumax made another pass and launched another barrage of Invado spell energy beams, this time at Tiranus and Tijanus, who barely escaped the deadly salvo by taking cover behind a large rock crusted with ice.

  A few paces from Tullus the remaining Wolfguard opponent howled upon seeing his fellow Wolfguard cut down and charged Tullus. Tullus parried a thrust from the Wolfguard’s sword before he was head butted. Then, moments later, the Wolfguard sunk his teeth into Tullus' arm. Tullus dropped LeopardClaw into the snow and grunted as fresh blood dripped from the wound. He slammed Leopardhide’s boss against the Wolfguard’s helm, then unsheathed Leopardtooth before launching it at the Wolfguard’s chest. The Wolfguard swiped at Leopardtooth and it bounced off its vambrace before Tullus picked up LeopardClaw and charged the creature. He took a swing and split the Wolfguard from shoulder to groin. Before his opponent could regenerate. he plunged LeopardClaw into the Wolfguard’s chest, splitting open the chestplate and killing his opponent.

  “Retreat! Retreat!” said Tiranus before the remaining wolves, and their eye-patched Captain, began withdrawing. Celestra growled at them as Tullus picked up LeopardTooth and hurled it at the back of a retreating Tijanus. LeopardTooth penetrated the leather mail as blood splattered the snow. Tiranus screamed as he watched his younger brother fall. He tried to retrieve Tijanus’ body before Aurumax appeared again, firing another vicious spread of beams, while the eye-patched man pulled Tiranus away. Tullus cursed at them as they withdrew before he slumped to the snow-covered ground, his body a mass of fury and pain.

  {III}

  Tullus inspected his arm wound. Hot, black pus oozed out of it, and when it dripped onto the snow, wispy smoke tendrils rose from the ground. Aurumax had returned and was sitting on a nearby branch right above from him, scratching his plumage, his starry eyes staring at Tullus compassionately. Celestra bounded across the snow to where Tullus was sitting. He had to treat his wound before it began to fester, but the ointment Gansu had given him was in his backpack.

  “Bring me my pack, Girl,” he said.

  Celestra took off in a blur, her eyes seeking out the backpack that was dropped before they were confronted by the skin-shifters. Moments later she returned, dragging the backpack by one of its shoulder straps until Tullus took it from her. He started rummaging through the pack and found the small jar of ointment, applying it generously across the bite wound. It burned. Tullus felt a sharp pain shoot through his neck and he cursed. Aurumax took off from his branch and landed three paces from Tullus. The pain in Tullus' body receded enough for him to move his shoulder. After resting, Tullus stood up and walked toward Tijanus’ corpse and pulled LeopardTooth out of his opponent’s back. Black, sticky blood had seeped out of Tijanus’s body and had welled up around the outline of his corpse. A few paces from where the corpse lay, Tullus found his drawstring bag lying on the snow. It was half open and a few gold coins had spilled out. He picked up the scattered coins and bag and stuffed it inside his money pouch before eying the scene of death and decay scattered upon the snow.

  “All this killing…for money,” he scoffed before Aurumax rose towards the sky and guided Tullus and Celestra away from the smoking battle grounds.

  After walking what seemed an eternity, Tullus eyed a stead beyond a rocky hillock dusted by snow. Celestra growled and bounded ahead, then stopped and turned her head around to look back at Tullus. The pain in his shoulder began to pulse again and his mind began to wander. He felt a longing inside of him, a thirst. It was a type of hunger he had never experienced before. He collapsed to his knees before Celestra ran back toward him.

  “I’m alright, Girl.” But he knew that was a lie. The hunger began to gnaw at his thoughts again, like a hungry street cur, desperate for its next meal. He felt like tasting human flesh. No. That was foolery. He pushed the peccant thought from his mind, reached into his backpack and downed a gulp of wine while Celestra watched. Was he going mad? He stood up and resumed his trek toward the stead. It was now in full view, surrounded by a sprawling wooden fence. Above him, Aurumax circled and shrieked. Tullus grunted and covered his ears as the noise from the eagle reverberated inside his skull. It almost felt as if his head would explode.

  He saw a large rock protruding from a thicket of trees and stumbled toward it while Celestra padded next to him, eying him with concern. When they passed the rock, Tullus heard something moving. More Wolfmen? He looked up and saw a large, Leopard-like cat. It sat hunched on top of the smooth surface of the ice-crusted rock. Its body was almost as wide as Celestra’s, its fur a dark golden hue layered under the ringed black spots that covered its body.

  The large Leopard growled while the stars in its eyes pulsated.

  Celestra growled back.

  Tullus drew LeopardClaw and pointed it at the creature. “Be still Leopard,” Tullus said groggily, “we come in peace.”

  “Mithras is a Jaguar,” said a familiar, calm voice. “His rosettes are larger than a Leopard’s and have spots in them, as well as a darker, thicker outline.”

  Tullus turned around and saw the white-bearded face of an old man, gripping a large, wooden staff.

  Could this be Hradack?

  The old man wore a Leopard pelt atop his head, which was tied under his neck. A thick, brown cloak with Leopard rosette patterns over a shirt of gold mail, and trousers above thick leather boots completed his garb. But before Tullus could utter another word, he dropped LeopardClaw and collapsed into a swirling, dark void while his thoughts were plagued with an unquenchable longing.

  Part I: The Leopard Master

  &

  The Snake Charmer

  {December 19th, 37 AD to February 25th, 38 AD}

  “Abeunt studia in mores.”

  “Practices passionately pursued become habits.”-Ovid

  Two/Duo

  Celestra was worried.

  The Jaguar, Mithras, protected their rearguard as she helped Hradack drag Tullus inside the house on a stretcher. Hradack then slipped Tullus inside a thick pile of bed covers and quickly disappeared. After a few moments, Hradack reappeared and inspected Tullus' wound before brandishing a sharp dagger from his belt and mumbling a few words. The blade began pulsating like an ember. Celestra growled at Hradack who looked at her and smiled.

  “Don’t worry, my dear. I mean Tullus no harm, but we need to clean this wound before it’s too late.

  Can you hear me? It was a voice inside her head. Hradack’s voice. Yes. He was speaking to her mind. I know how much you love, Tullus, Celestra, but he is very ill. I must help him.

  She growled her permission.

  Hradack grinned. “Thank you.” He sprinkled a green, dust-like substance over the wound, causing the infected skin to sizzle before sinking the blade into Tullus' arm. Tullus began to stir restlessly in his sleep while Hradack worked the blade into the wound, carving out globs of sticky, black pus. Moments later an emerald-eyed, old woman with short, braided hair, wearing an apron appeared at the door carrying a pottery bowl and a towel. She smiled nervously at Celestra before placing the bowl on a dresser by Tullus' bedside. Hradack used the towel to clean his dagger.

  “Will he live?” she asked Hradack.

  “The wound isn’t as severe as I had initially thought,” Hradack replied calmly. “Fortunately he found us before the next full moon, or else he would’ve become one of them.”

  The old woman sighed a breath of relief before she disappeared from the room. Hradack then drained the wound with a syringe, ejecting more black pus into the bowl.

  After a few moments T
ullus began to moan before his eyes fluttered open. Celestra’s spirits rose and she silently thanked Hradack for his treatment before a loud fluttering noise attracted her attention. She looked at the window and saw Aurumax outside, looking inside the room. He nodded at her before taking off.

  “Where…am…I?” Tullus asked.

  Hradack smiled and patted Tullus on the chest. “You’re safe, Tullus. Although you may not be in peak shape for a while.”

  Tullus groaned in pain as he tried lifting himself from the bed. He eyed the wound the Wolfguard had inflicted upon his arm: two red enflamed bite marks resembling a pair of malevolent eyes.

  “Hradack?”

  The old man smiled and gently pushed Tullus back until his head was propped up above two pillows. “I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances,” Tullus muttered.

  “Your wound is healing, but you must rest,” Hradack said softly. “I’ve drained most of the infectious fluids out. But you still need more rest before you can resume your daily activities.”

  “Thank you,” Tullus said. “I guess the old stories are true—there are skin-shifting creatures out in the wilderness. Though, this was the first time I’ve ever seen one.”

  “Yes, unfortunately they do exist; it was quite unfortunate you encountered them.”

  “Who is Jarkos Wolfsbane? The creatures we encountered said we were trespassing in his territory.”

  Hradack’s face assumed a sullen look. He sat back in his chair before stroking his thick, white beard which was lined with gray streaks.

  “Yes, you both wandered off course and found yourselves in Wolfsbane Pass. Although I didn’t know he had extended his boundaries yet again; but to answer your question Tullus, Jarkos Wolfsbane is a despotic Wolf lord who controls the area you passed through.”

  Celestra was glad Tullus was awake, and, when he met her eyes, she felt a wave of relief course through her veins.

  “You alright, Girl?”

  She purred. Hradack smiled and stroked the back of her head. His fingers gently caressed her rosette-laden fur in her favorite spot, reminding her of Tullus' head scratches.

  “She helped me bring you to my home,” Hradack said, “otherwise you might’ve been covered with hair and howling at the next full moon.”

  Tullus nodded. “I felt a longing for human flesh, and my body was on fire.”

  Hradack scratched his beard. “Yes, one of the early symptoms of, the changing.”

  “Thank you for sending Aurumax, and for helping me fight the Wolfguard.” Tullus swallowed hard. “Otherwise, I would’ve never been able to effectively combat them.”

  Hradack inspected Tullus' open wound and appeared satisfied. “Only magical, blessed, weapons can kill Wolfguard. Your weapons are impressive, but not designed for combating undead creatures. But, I am happy to help.”

  There was a knock at the door. Celestra’s head turned and she saw the old woman had returned. She had a tray in her hands filled with a steaming bowl of gruel. She placed it next to Tullus' bed stand and smiled warmly at Tullus, who looked at her gratefully and slowly mopped up the food with a spoon.

  “Tullus, this is my wife, Cornelia,” Hradack said. “Her cooking will help restore your Vigor to full health.”

  Cornelia looked at Tullus as a mother would a sick, young child. At least that was how Celestra saw it. She felt a tingling sensation, as if her senses were alerting her to something. But there was no danger here, she knew these people were lawful. Even felt it. But why did she feel there was something more to them? Something that lay beneath their exteriors.

  “We’ve been expecting you for quite some time, Tullus, and Celestra,” Cornelia said. “It’s so nice to host visitors in our home since we do not often have the company of guests.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” Tullus said tiredly before he finished his gruel.

  Hradack noticed this and took the empty bowl from Tullus. “Let us leave him, Cornelia, he is tired. We will speak to him later.”

  Celestra heard another knock. This time, a bearded pygmy wearing a red-striped tunic and muddy breeches waddled into the room. Celestra eyed him closely.

  “Is there a problem, Vespillo?” Hradack asked. Everyone in the room stared at the small newcomer.

  The pygmy grunted. “It’s Bruticus again, he nearly crushed my skull in with his front hooves when I tried to clean his stall. I tell you Hradack, that horse is mad.”

  Hradack smiled. “He is mad indeed, but I gather its anger possessing his spirit, not insanity. But I’ll come visit him.” Hradack stood up and grasped his staff.

  Tullus sat up from his bed. “Who is this…Bruticus, this little man speaks of, Hradack?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, Tullus,” Hradack replied. “But for now, focus on regaining your Vigor, you’ll be needing it sooner than you think.”

  {II}

  Under a judgmental sky, Norbanus stumbled along the Via Appia. During the days, the sun was a glazed, white ball that hid beneath the clouds; at night the moon a sliver of hazy white light that barely lit Norbanus’s way. It was a monotonous cycle that Norbanus had grown accustomed to during his tedious trek.

  Today was no different from any of the past few days he’d endured, except for the fact that his food and water supply was dangerously low. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he’d pass a brook or a creek in the nearby woodlands adjacent to the road, or maybe the occasional inn. But other than that, the scenery was sparse. He had encountered other travelers upon the road, but they paid little attention to him. Once, a robber had attempted to assail him, but Norbanus was able to fight the vermin off with his sword.

  His disheveled appearance matched his offensive body odor. His once-white tunic mired with black, greasy stains, while the edges of his cloak were worn from his rough travel. He cursed the Leopard King for leaving him in this predicament. Soon, he was rewarded with dark blue mountains that looked as if they were painted beneath the evening horizon. He was happy to put another miserable day behind him.

  He passed a stone milestone measuring the distance to the next major city on his path, Capua. Perhaps with his remaining funds, he could obtain a bath before continuing on to Rhegium. His empty stomach rumbled and he felt the acid juices burn his throat. He decided to stop to eat and rest before his hunger became unbearable. He pressed a few drops of water out of the waterskin which cooled his stomach. Then, reaching into his provisions, he pulled out a small fig cake with dried honey and chewed on it. He was fortunate to have enough provisions to get to Rhegium. At least he would not have to worry about starving, he had enough problems to deal with.

  He finished the cake and felt it ease down into his stomach. His hunger abated, he stretched his weary body against the milestone to take a short nap. If it rained he could always seek refuge under his thick cloak.

  Right after he closed his eyes and his head dropped against his chest, he felt a sharp pain impact against the side of his head, causing him to double over sideways until he found himself staring up at four grimy faces. They all wore foul-smelling tunics, three carried worn, short swords whilst the fourth one grasped a rusty halberd which had seen better days.

  “We’ll ask ye just one time, Roman,” said a large robber with a plump belly and blackened gums lined with rotten teeth as he pointed his sword blade at Norbanus’s throat, “surrender ye clothing and possessions and we’ll leave ye in peace!”

  Norbanus was still dazed from the sharp impact inflicted upon him. He cursed his foolishness for stopping to eat with his back turned toward the road. But he was not near any woodlands or forest, so where did these four vagabonds appear from?

  “Stand up!” said another robber, this one a spindly man with long, matted hair that dangled from the sides of his balding pate.

  Norbanus raised himself from the ground. He felt lightheaded, but managed to get to his feet; all four robbers kept their weapons trained on him.

  “I’m an impoverished traveler,” Norbanus began. “M
y possessions are meager. But I am willing to share my food with you.” He hated having to plead for his life from these maggoty creatures. In Rome he would have men like these executed for simply looking at him insolently.

  One of the robbers slammed the pommel of his sword into the base of Norbanus’s skull. He landed face-first into the ground and tasted dirt. Above him he felt cumbrous hands grasping at him like vultures.

  He tried to reach for his sword but his scabbard was empty. Above him he felt the robbers stripping off his cloak and tunic while another robber tugged his boots off.

  They’re stripping me like dead wood off a tree bark.

  He tried lifting his head but felt a heavy foot on his back press him down. Norbanus squirmed like a fish for what felt like an eternity until he felt the foot release its hold, and then the patter of feet as the robbers took off. He lifted his head up to see the four men disappear into the underbrush at the other side of the road, one of them gripping Norbanus’s backpack as he disappeared amongst the tall reeds.

  When he lifted his head, darkness had taken hold of the heavens; above him a dark stretch of clouds drifted across a sedentary night sky. He rose groggily to his feet and rubbed his aching head. His hair felt damp as he ran his fingers through it. Warm droplets of blood appeared on his fingers and he cursed. Again, an image of the Leopard King formed in his mind and he condemned it to the deepest recesses of the underworld.

  He rambled upon the road. Stripped bare of his clothes, boots and supplies, he felt as if the entire world’s eyes were watching him as his toes felt the cold cobbled blocks of stone of the Via Appia. The robbers had left him his undershirt and loincloth, but other than that he was naked as the day he was born.

  “Let me die!” Norbanus called out as he tripped over a rock and stumbled into the rushes at the side of the road. He saw a murky bog stretching out into the distance. He closed his eyes and wanted to cry. But he couldn’t. He hoped that when he woke up he would be dead and his suffering would be over.