by T. A. Uner
Hyena looked at his brothers. Quick-Kill stared at him hungrily and Hyena stroked his smooth, furry head. Taking out a piece of dried lizard meat he threw it at Quick-Kill’s feet; when Slow-Death saw this he wanted to eat as well.
Very well.
He watched as his brothers ate their fill before they resumed their lonely trek. Around them, the sand dunes stretched out like an endless sea under a merciless white sun. Buzzards hovered above them waiting for their death. Hyena smiled.
Not today, fiends.
He laughed and with one quick motion nocked an arrow and fired it at one of the birds. It squawked and fell like a rock, before crashing into the sand. Quick-Kill ran off to bring the bird to him. Slow-Death followed and began competing with him to bring the bird to Hyena until he managed to tear a part of the bird off. They both brought their halves to him.
Such loyalty.
After skinning the bird and wrapping its meat, Hyena continued on his course. If he could only hear. Then he would be complete. Despite this, he had lived as best he could.
The white sun was momentarily blacked out before it reappeared. Hyena had never seen such an occurrence. Then again he had lived long enough to have seen many strange things. Once, with his two brothers, he had first attacked a small caravan. The fools had traveled with little protective escort and he and his two brothers had slaughtered them like cattle.
The shadow blocked out the sun again.
What is this? An eclipse? Don't those happen at night?
His mind stirred and he felt someone inside his head. It was a voice that sounded like a dust storm.
Can you hear me Hyena?
Yes. Who is this?
A friend. One who understands your pain. My name is Maelstrom.
Strange name.
I come from a strange place.
What do you want?
There was a long pause before Maelstrom spoke again, To help you.
I need no help. I am a predator.
Do you wish to hear again?
How could you know that?
I know many things.
Such as?
My master can give you your hearing back.
Who is your master?
A Snake Lord; his name is Serpentus.
The Snake Lords are vanquished.
Not this one.
Hmmmm…
Another long pause. The sun was blocked out again. A coin fell from the sky, followed by a rolled parchment. Hyena read the instructions which were written in red ink. It looked like blood. After he had finished reading it the parchment dissolved into sand and filtered through his fingers. He picked up the coin and considered his options.
{V}
Fabian SilverSword was not a happy man.
His two young sons were hungry, and the third, a newborn baby girl was born with a lame foot. But that was the least of his problems.
His prospects for a good life were once high. He was once an Optio in the fourth cohort of the 6th Legion. Nicknamed Stone Ram. The name had been given by his friend, Lager McVick. In the Roman Legions he had made a name, charging large enemy formations and knocking opposing soldiers down with his head. Hence the name. He had been honored by his former Senior Centurion, and given a Legionary Shield with the logo of a Ram painted on it. But, after sustaining a battle injury to his midsection he was forced to retire from military service.
After marriage he had fathered children. One had died during childbirth. Money was tight and his wife was forced to prostitute herself since he could not provide for the family.
SilverSword was shamed.
A proud soldier who was the first in his family to become an officer. To live a life like this was beneath him. But Stone Ram was patient. He would collect bounties whenever possible and sometimes kill outlaws before robbing them. But even this wasn’t enough to support his family.
To make matters worse he had sustained an injury to the side of his face during one robbery. The Medicus in his village promised he could repair his face for 15 aurei. But where would he find such currency?
“Failure has finally overtaken me,” SilverSword said to his wife.
His wife was breast-feeding their daughter. “The Medicus can heal her leg and your face,” his wife said. “But you must find us money.”
“From where?”
“Steal, borrow or kill,” his wife said. “I am tired of this life.”
“As am I.” He left his wife and the three children and climbed atop his horse. Even the beast was underfed and he was surprised it could still carry his weight. It was a warm, humid morning. He took off his horned helm and scratched his head. Perhaps the local crime lord could use his assistance. But no. He had broken the nose of a footmen in a tavern fight weeks ago. It was unlikely he’d ever get work from them again.
Perhaps I could hang myself? No. Then my little ones would starve.
The streets of the town he lived in, Valentia, were deserted as the early rays of light began creeping across the rooftops of the dwellings. Spain. A hot country but not as hot as he was.
He felt strange. Dressed in his chainmail and carrying his Legionary Shield. A warrior without a battle to fight.
“I’ll take that shield.”
He snapped out of his reverie. Three street murderers surrounded his horse. No doubt heading back to their hidey holes after a night of robbery and killing.
I don’t want to kill them, he thought. But I will.
“Leave me alone,” Stone Ram said.
The murderers laughed. “Leave me alone,” one of them said, mocking his voice.
All three drew dirks. Another one appeared from an alley way carrying a spiked club.
Stone Ram drew his short sword, leaped off his stead, and charged.
The murderers tried to scatter but his Ram Helm speared one in the arm and ripped out tendons. He spun around and brought his short sword down on a shoulder, separating it from torso. Blood spewed like a river from the wound.
The other two stared at him as if he was a creature from some nightmare.
Stone Ram charged the last two.
The one with the spiked club swung at him. The club ricocheted off of Ram’s shield before he thrust his sword into the man’s midsection; he twisted his sword sideways, carving the man like a supper hen.
He deflected a cut from the last murderer then swirled around like a top, finding an opening, before beheading his opponent.
The head rolled towards a street gutter, blood trailing it down into the sewage duct.
After taking a short breath he gathered up the bodies and found 50 denarii, a rusty key, and a pair of old dice.
After dragging the corpses into the alley, Ram slumped against a wall.
What have I done?
“The only thing you could do.”
Ram stood up. “Who said that?” He looked around. The alleyway was empty.
“I did.”
Ram saw a swirl of mist form before him. It materialized into the shape of a creature he had heard of in fairy tales. The kind told to scare children to sleep. It resembled a cross between a man and a shadow. Yet neither. Two shadowy, bat-like wings unfolded behind its back and stretched themselves. It grew two, shadowy arms and legs before approaching SilverSword.
“What are you?”
“My name is Maelstrom.” It laughed. “And you are called Stone Ram. I observed your fight. Impressive.”
“How do you know me?”
“Though I am new to this world,” Maelstrom began, “I know…many things.”
“What do you want from me?” SilverSword gripped the hilt of his sheathed short sword.
“Only to offer assistance.” Its shadowy hand extended itself and placed a coin in his hand. “I have come with a proposal. Fight for my master and your family shall never starve again.”
It was SilverSword’s turn to laugh. “That is foolery.”
“I assure you I speak the truth.”
SilverSword wondered how this creatu
re had found him. “Who is your master?”
“Serpentus,” Maelstrom answered.
“I see.”
“I will impart my master’s instructions into your memory. Then you will appear when the time is right. But you must follow the instructions for it to work. Do you agree to these terms?”
SilverSword felt benumbed in the presence of the shadow creature.
“Do you agree?” it repeated.
SilverSword nodded.
The instructions appeared in his head, like the shadow promised.
Utter Serpentus’ name five times.
“The well-being of your Family is at stake. Do not disappoint them.” The shadow dispersed.
Fabian SilverSword stood there. Mouth agape. His wife would never believe this story.
{VI}
The swamp was damp, humid and inhospitable to outsiders, but Croctus Reptilius felt at ease here. In his past he’d lived in more adverse terrain, so this was nothing alien.
Using the heavy oar, he steered the punt through his marshland home. The two brothers, Max and Rex, actually two Vampires in human disguise, sat near the prow away from him. Sawtooth, his Crocodile, grunted at the two brothers who stared at the creature with revulsion. Reptilius laughed. Sawtooth’s rugged demeanor reminded him of his own character. He continued steering the punt through the mucky water. One of the brothers, Max, pointed to the distance. “Over there!”
“I see it,” replied Reptilius. He steered the punt closer until its bow glided across the mud bank and stopped.
Rex tied the boat to a thick uprooted tree root.
“I hope you two are not wasting my time,” Reptilius said.
“It’s here,” Max said. He pulled out the map.
“Let’s go,” Rex added. He and his brother grabbed their flashlights.
Reptilius brought up the rear while Sawtooth stayed behind to guard the punt. If anyone was foolish enough to try and steal it they would find an unwelcome surprise. The crocodile lifted its armored head and emitted a raspy grunt. “Guard the punt, I’ll be back shortly, boy,” Reptilius said.
As they passed through the dense undergrowth, Reptilius soaked in the surroundings. The lush green foliage matched the color of his breastplate which had replica crocodile scales engraved upon it. He heard a sudden fluttering sound and spun around. Both his hand ballistae were cocked. It was only a heron. He holstered his weapons. Rex laughed.
“Next time you laugh at me, I’ll put a silver bolt through your skull,” Reptilius said.
Damn vampires, he thought.
Max’s smiled disappeared.
They resumed their trek through the bog until they came to the foot of a small mud hill with an opening imbedded in its side. But it was blocked by a large boulder.
“Shit,” Rex said.
“Fuck,” Max said.
Reptilius sniggered. “Stand back simpletons.” He attached small plastic explosives to the tips of his bolts.
“What are you doing?” Max said.
Reptilius aimed his hand ballistae at the boulder and stepped back. The brothers, looking perplexed, heeded his words and ducked behind an overturned tree.
Reptilius fired the bolts. They streaked through the air and impacted with the boulder. An explosion rocked the bog as the boulder exploded into bits of stones and pebbles, showering debris around Reptilius. He smiled behind his black helmet and pumped a muscular arm to the sky.
“Shit,” Rex said.
“Fuck,” Max said.
“Let’s go,” Reptilius ordered. Both brothers lit their flashlights and led the way through the opening, which stretched out into a large cavernous room constructed of stone. Inside, three smaller entrances were visible.
“Which one do we take boys?” Reptilius asked.
The two brothers mumbled amongst themselves.
“Well?”
“The middle entrance,” Rex said.
“I hope you’re right.”
They passed through the entrance. Inside smelled of dirt and vegetation. Its small passageway widened until they found themselves in another room. This one was smaller and the brothers’ eyes widened as they saw the large chest. It was made of gold and shone under the illumination of their flashlights. A thick lock guarded its secrets. Reptilius grinned under his mask and picked the lock with one of his daggers. The lock opened.
“Open it,” he told one of the brothers.
Rex pried it open. Inside was a coffer-full of gold coins. Both brothers stared at the coins excitedly, like virgins in a brothel. Reptilius picked up one coin. “Babylonian gold,” he said before pocketing it. “Let’s get this booty back to the punt.”
The brothers carried the chest while Reptilius carried their flashlights. They reentered the large cavern before exiting through the opening. They found Sawtooth waiting for them outside the opening.
“I thought I told you to guard the punt boy?”
Sawtooth stretched out his neck and pointed his snout toward a thicket of bushes. He snarled at it, revealing rows of jagged teeth. Black tendrils of smoke rose from the bushes.
Is it on fire? Reptilius thought. No.
He saw movement coming from the bush and drew his hand ballistae.
“Who’s there?” Reptilius called. Behind him the brothers had dropped the chest and waited anxiously.
“Shit,” Rex said.
“Fuck,” Max said.
The smoke tendrils formed into a strange smoke creature with thin red eyes. It stared at Reptilius and bowed politely. “You are Croctus Reptilius, I presume.”
“Yeah,” Reptilius said, “who wants to know?”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mister Reptilius,” the smoke creature said. “I am Maelstrom, I come bearing a message for you.”
“From whom?”
“My master, a Snake Lord named Serpentus.”
“Never heard of him,” Reptilius replied. His patience was wearing thin. Sawtooth grunted.
“I see you are a treasure hunter?”
“That’s right.”
“My master requires your services.”
“Is that so?”
A coin dropped at Reptilius’ feet. He stared at it but continued to point his weapons at Maelstrom. “Where is this treasure?”
Rex and Max bounded up to Reptilius. “Do you know this person?” Rex asked.
“I am not a person,” Maelstrom said pointedly.
“Right,” Reptilius said.
“If you will do my master a favor, he promises you a vast reward…do you accept?”
Reptilius holstered his weapons. The smoke creature seemed harmless.
“Right.”
“Excellent,” Maelstrom said.
“What about us?” the brothers asked the smoke creature.
“Well, I’m afraid the offer is exclusive to Croctus Reptilius.”
“That’s not fair,” Rex said.
“We’re his friends,” Max said.
Reptilius drew his hand ballistae and fired two silver bolts into the brothers’ chests. They collapsed like thatched houses in an earthquake. “Sorry boys, had enough of you two.”
Sawtooth snarled.
Maelstrom laughed.
“Now tell me.” Reptilius holstered his weapons. “Where is this vast treasure you speak of?”
{VII}
Jarkos Wolfsbane grieved.
His youngest had been taken away from him, during an altercation at Wolfsbane Pass. A stranger, dressed as a Leopard had murdered his youngest. It was a loss no parent should feel.
Tijanus.
The day Tiranus and the Byrock Blackheart had brought his body back was the saddest day he had experienced since the death of his wife. This Leopard man would pay for his transgressions. He had sent his minions out into the countryside, scouring for his son’s killer, but there was no sign of the stranger. He offered vast riches to anyone who could find Tijanus’ murderer.
Jarkos Wolfsbane would not rest until this man was dead.
>
Byrock Blackheart entered Jarkos’ throne room. He bowed his one-eyed head and looked at Jarkos solemnly.
“Report.”
“The search continues,” Blackheart said. “Still, nobody has seen this man we seek.”
Jarkos hurled a goblet at the floor. It clattered and rolled toward Blackheart’s boots.
“I am tired of hearing the same excuses!” Jarkos slammed his fist on the arm of his throne which was carved into the shape of a wolf's claw. “Is this all you have learned?”
“No, my lord. I have learned the identity of this Leopard man. He is called the Leopard King.”
Wolfsbane remained silent. “What else have you learned about this man?”
Byrock’s left eye twitched and he scratched his arse. “Not much. Some say he was once a circus performer. Others claim he killed Camus Scorpio.”
“Scorpio?” This was no ordinary man. Anyone who could defeat Camus Scorpio was a dangerous foe. But now was not the time for reflection. “Did you send scouts to track this Leopard King?”
“Yes, M’Lord,” Byrock replied nervously. “Twenty of our Wolfguard are out searching for now.”
Why was Blackheart nervous? It took a lot to shake the Wolf Captain’s resolve. “Something troubles you Blackheart?”
His Wolfguard Captain looked at him abashedly.
Wolfsbane nodded to the two Wolfguard standing inside his throne room; they stepped outside.
“We are alone now,” he groused, “speak.”
“This man, M’Lord, we…we came at him with almost a dozen heavily-armed Wolfguard and he fought us all off. He had a giant Leopard with him. One of the Wolfguard said its eyes glowed like stars.”
“An Incantra,” Wolfsbane muttered.
“Whoever he is…he knows Elemence.”
“That is foolery,” Wolfsbane replied, unimpressed. “All the Elders and Air Paladins are dead. Their lights snuffed out decades ago.”
Blackheart swallowed hard. “I saw it with my own eye.”
