by Narro, B. T.
Their swords clashed, then the skunk shouldered Calvon. He stumbled backward, losing his balance as the skunk came after him. The separation was enough for Jek. He took the skunk off his feet with a fireball to his side. A scream escaped his lips as he tumbled. Calvon stuck the man with his sword just as he came to a stop. He yanked it out and then slashed it across the man’s neck.
The one who was shot in the leg was trying to run. Already, he’d reached the thicket surrounding them, his back disappearing into the forest. Peter shot after him, but the arrow was deflected by branches.
There was still one skunk left, now wheezing, desperately trying to gather the strength to flee as he struggled to keep his balance. Scampering and falling every other step, he looked back at them over his shoulder.
Jek followed Calvon and Peter as they quickly caught up to the skunk.
“Please!” the man begged. This one was older than the last, at least, with long, dirty hair and blood oozing from the opening in his shoulder where Peter’s arrow had plunged.
As Calvon strode quickly and took his sword with both hands, Jek and Peter stopped.
“No, please!” the skunk begged again. He fell to his knees, holding out his hands.
Without a word, Calvon used his foot to shove the man onto his back. He drove the sword down in one quick motion. The skunk yelped as death took him.
“How many escaped?” Calvon asked Jek and Peter. He seemed panicked.
“Two,” Jek told him.
“One won’t get far with an arrow in his leg,” Peter said. “What about yours, Jek? Did you shoot him before he got away?”
“I missed.”
Calvon sighed. “He’s probably going to get help. Come on. Let’s see what we can find in their tents.”
“How long do we have?” Jek needed to know before he could relish the victory.
“It’s uncertain,” Calvon said, starting toward the nearest tent. It was the largest one, big enough for six men, and there were still three others of about half the size. “It depends how long it takes them to find another group of skunks or get to their nearest camp. Start looking.”
Rushed, Calvon brushed aside the fabric and entered the tent just as Jek started toward a different one. But he stopped when he heard Calvon utter a loud curse.
“Come here!” he called.
Holding up the fabric, Calvon stood aside to let Peter and Jek enter.
Peter began to laugh with a tinge of madness the moment he entered. But Jek could say nothing when he saw the same sight. He simply stared with his mouth agape. There were three crates, too massive for Jek to have any hope of moving them. Through the horizontal gaps between flanks of wood, Jek saw what looked to be dozens of giant sacks. One near the edge of a crate had its drawstring opened enough for Jek to see inside. It was filled with bread.
“Now this is what could make me an officer.” Calvon used his sword to pry off the lid of the nearest crate.
Soon all three of them were digging their hands through the sacks. When Calvon found one filled with oats and shoveled a handful into his mouth, Jek started eating as well.
Peter’s laughter grew louder when he found jugs of water buried at the bottom. He nearly fell into the crate in his attempt to bring them out. Jek grabbed his legs.
As quickly as they could, they ate, washed it down, then ate some more. Jek’s full and complaining stomach soon stopped him. Calvon and Peter were still chewing even though their voracious appetites had clearly been appeased. The three of them shared a look of contentment. Jek had been hungry less than a day, yet the feeling of satisfaction was still nearly equal to the first kiss he shared with Lisanda. He could only imagine what Calvon and Peter were feeling.
Even better, they’d filled their stomachs without the crate of food looking any different than when they’d found it. Weeks of gorging themselves might’ve resulted in the consumption of half of one crate, yet there were three.
“These must’ve just been delivered,” Calvon said. “This camp must be a relay point. Other groups should be on their way for the food. And that’s if those who escaped don’t find help first.”
But the crates were too large to move. Even if they each carried as many bags of food as they could hold, it would take days to get half of everything to the bunker.
“What do you suggest we do?” Jek asked.
“We need to tell the others,” Calvon said. “We need carts and horses, plus axes to clear a path through the forest.” He was shaking his head as he spoke.
“So what are you saying we should do?” Jek pressed.
Petulantly, Calvon threw up his hands. “I don’t know!”
Jek thought quickly, glancing at the crates. “With enough people, we can carry the bags out of here. Do either of you know of any large groups nearby?”
“They patrol,” Peter said, spitting out the words as if they were enough to answer Jek’s question.
Calvon elaborated for him. “We don’t know where any group is exactly at this moment, just the general area some of them are exploring. To get help, we need to go back to the bunker.”
“Then you should do that,” Jek suggested to Calvon. “I’ll stay here with Peter, and we’ll start moving the bags over there.” He pointed to the maze of tree limbs they’d gone through to get into the camp. “The skunks ran the opposite way, so the chances are good they’ll come back from that same direction. We’ll hide as many bags as we can in case they arrive before you do.”
“It’s a long trip back.” Calvon pursed his lips, his eyes shifting between the crates. “It might even be dark by the time I return with a group.”
“Then hurry,” Jek said.
Peter nodded. “It’s the best idea.”
Calvon exited the tent in a hurry. He didn’t break stride as he headed toward the trees.
“Hey,” Peter called after him.
Calvon stopped and glanced over his shoulder.
“Be careful.”
Calvon nodded, then turned and disappeared among the branches.
Chapter 16:
JEK
“Before we start moving the bags,” Peter said. “We might as well check what’s in the other tents.”
Jek noticed that Peter didn’t take a step and appeared to be waiting for Jek to agree.
“You check. I’ll start hauling the bags.”
Peter nodded and hurried off to the next tent.
Jek worked tirelessly, full of energy from his recent meal. He made sure every bag that he moved into the cluster of tree limbs was out of sight from the camp. It was a slow process, as navigating in and out was difficult, even painful at times. The ends of the limbs were jagged, catching his hips and shoulders as he tried to keep his body tucked as tightly as possible.
It was too much trying to get through with two bags, forcing him to move only one at a time. Soon, Peter had joined him.
“Did you find anything?” Jek asked.
“No food or weapons. One skunk left behind a journal. Based on the first few pages, it describes his experiences here in the forest. It probably doesn’t contain any information of value, but I took it anyway. The only other things I found were clothes.”
“Did you check if you could find anything from the tents that burned?”
“Yes, there was nothing salvageable.”
They developed a system of Peter bringing the sacks out from the crate and putting them near the tree limbs. Jek was familiar with maneuvering through them, eventually finding a route that got him back and forth somewhat quicker than before.
Still, it was slow going. Many of the bags were heavy, so much so that Jek began to have difficulty carrying them with one hand. His back ached, as did his arms and shoulders.
After hours had passed, he asked how much of one crate they’d moved.
“Not much,” Peter said.
Jek couldn’t keep up with how fast Peter was getting the sacks from the crate to the fallen trees, and eventually ten bags had piled up.
“Right.”
After they cleared the excess bags, Jek figured it would be safer for both of them to transport sacks from the crate to the hiding spot instead of the previous system. He explained his reasoning to Peter. “That way if someone comes, there won’t be bags left out leading them to us.”
The sun was setting quickly by the time they’d moved half of one crate. In another two hours it would be dark. Calvon needed to come back soon. Jek couldn’t rid himself of the feeling of dread. Skunks wouldn’t let them take this food freely. They surely would return at some point.
Jek and Peter were both within the maze of tree limbs when Jek noticed movement around the camp.
“Peter,” he whispered.
Peter let down the burlap sack he was carrying and eyed Jek nervously.
“Look.” He pointed to the dark shape shuffling through the gaps between leaves and wood. He and Peter maneuvered to the edge as quietly as possible. They parted the canopy of leaves in their way for a glimpse.
A black bear well over three times the girth of any man was lumbering around the camp. Its bottom lip curled while drool seeped out. Picking up the scent of food, it headed straight toward the biggest tent. Jek heard the beast rip through the fabric in its way.
“If it’s hungry, it could eat a third of a crate,” Jek said.
Bravely, Peter stepped out into the open and reached for an arrow. “If we can’t scare him off, we’ll have to kill him.”
Jek joined him, and they started to go around the perimeter of the camp. The bear had entered the tent and was now out of sight. But another bear entering the camp froze them, this one even bigger than the first. It headed toward the tent, too, seemingly unaware of Jek and Peter.
Based on the animals’ size, Jek figured it would take multiple arrows and fireballs just to kill one. If both attacked at once, Jek and Peter would be outmatched.
“What do you suggest?” Peter whispered, his tone nervous.
Jek couldn’t think of anything before both bears were in the tent. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they must be clawing the bags open, spilling food everywhere and devouring it with insatiable hunger.
More movement from the other side of the camp caught Jek’s eye. Fearful it was skunks, he pulled Peter back into the thicket.
To Jek’s dismay, it was the black tunics of skunks he’d seen. Ten of them came through, then another ten, then another ten…they kept coming.
“Shit on a grave, there’s two bears in there!” one hissed.
Other skunks ran beside him to get the same vantage point. They drew their weapons, but only a few had bows. The rest were turned around, clearing a path by cutting away tree limbs and shoving down tall bushes. More skunks came through with a platform on wheels, clearly meant to transport the cargo.
“There could be forty of them,” Peter whispered.
Jek watched, trying to figure out what to do. The skunks banged their swords together while shouting in an attempt to scare the bears. But the massive beasts weren’t coming out of the tent. Jek could hear them roaring, causing some of the skunks to step back with wide eyes.
Archers began drawing their arrows. The rest of the skunks waited, not going near. Many were still shouting and clanking swords.
“I’m going to catch the tent on fire,” Jek said. “If we can’t have the food, then they can’t, either.”
“That’s stupid,” Peter whispered furiously. “They’ll see which direction the fireball came from and chase after us.”
“So get ready to run.”
Although Peter seemed reluctant, he fell silent and waited. Jek started gathering energy—he nearly screamed from being startled when he heard something coming behind them. Spinning around so frantically that he slammed his shoulder into a branch, he found dark green tunics—the same ones Calvon and Peter were wearing to show their allegiance. In fact, Jek soon recognize Calvon as the closest one coming toward them.
Sudden panic struck Jek’s heart when he realized Calvon might call out to him. Frantically, Jek put a finger over his lips and pointed with his other hand over his shoulder.
Calvon understood and relayed the information to those behind him, their whispers barely audible.
The shouts and clanking from the camp died out.
“Those bears look angry,” a skunk said nervously. “They probably feel trapped in there with us right outside.”
“Just shoot them,” another demanded. “They’re not leaving.”
Calvon squeezed his way through to Jek. “How many skunks are out there?” he whispered.
“Forty,” Jek guessed. With horror, he saw only five men following Calvon through the maze. “You couldn’t bring more?” Jek complained.
“There’s about forty more setting up over there.” He pointed east. “They’re clearing branches and bushes to bring through a carrying cart. I went ahead to look for you and signs of our enemies. Give me a moment.” Calvon turned and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Tell them to attack,” he whispered loudly to those at the other end of the maze. “We’ll fight from this side.”
Two men nodded and broke into a sprint.
“How long will it take for them to meet the other group?” Jek asked.
“Seconds. Get ready.”
Suddenly, bears roared, men screamed, and arrows began to fly.
“Come on!” Jek called louder than he meant. He jumped out from the cover of the fallen trees. Both bears were rushing the skunks. The frightened men scattered like a disturbed cluster of flies. A few archers continued to shoot, striking the bears with more arrows. The animals reared up. Jek had gathered enough energy for a fireball and aimed at the archer closest to him.
When the fireball struck the man, and he landed near two others, they both turned and pointed at Jek.
“Frogs!” they shouted.
Peter had come beside Jek. He shot one of the shouting men. Calvon was reluctant to charge so many enemies. Luckily, half of them were fighting off the bears, some shooting, some dancing around while wildly swinging their swords.
With a battle cry, the rest of Jek’s allies stormed in from the east, plants and dried leaves trampled by their entrance, crackling and crunching—joining the chorus of their shouts. With the bears roaring and the skunks yelling at each other, chaos surrounded Jek and pulled him into battle.
The tents quickly fell as men clashed swords. With eighty people in a space fit for thirty, Jek had trouble deciding who to shoot so that he wouldn’t hit one of his own. But he found an archer at the edge of the camp who was looking back at him. Jek fired before the skunk could loose his arrow, but his fireball missed to the side, exploding against a tree.
With as much SE as he could gather, Jek made a wall in front of him and Peter. The skunk’s arrow struck it, yet broke through. The wall had been too thin, but luckily the arrow went between them. Jek shattered the wall, allowing Peter to fire back. His arrow impaled the skunk’s chest.
Jek noticed the corpse of one bear, while the other seemed to be gone. Calvon charged into the brawl. Jek followed, yet stayed on the outer reaches of the fray. He found two skunks driving back what looked to be an ally officer. While all of Jek’s allies wore green, this man had the crest of his territory embroidered on his tunic. It was the head of a lion roaring, the symbol of Zav. He appeared to be skilled enough to keep up with both enemies’ swords, even as the skunks separated to come from either side. The officer kicked away one, and that’s when Jek fired, striking the skunk in the torso with a fireball about the same size as his chest. He was dead instantly.
The officer managed to cut the forearm of the other attacker. In one motion he came back around to swing at the one Jek had just shot. Surprise filled his eyes when no one was there. He looked beh
ind him and found Jek. Without more than a blink, he turned back and finished the other man with a slash down his chest.
Soon they had outnumbered their enemies. Jek found no other opportunities to shoot, for every skunk was fighting off two men. It must’ve become clear that they’d lost, for the skunks tried to flee. Most didn’t make it out of the camp, and those who did were chased by two or three soldiers in green tunics—frogs, Jek thought, remembering what one skunk had called them.
An enemy archer turned and fired wildly at his chasers. Both jumped to the side as the arrow came between them and flew into the camp. Looking the other direction, Peter was hit in his rear. He jumped and grabbed his meaty flesh with both hands.
“My ass!” he screamed. Rushing over, Jek found the arrow had grazed his backside. There was a rip through his pants and underwear. Jek couldn’t see how deep the cut was, though. Peter’s hands were pressed against it, his head titled to the sky, his feet jumping back and forth.
He continued to scream. “Who shot me in the ass?” he uttered between yelps, looking around frantically. “Who!”
“It was a skunk running away,” Jek said. “Let me see how deep the cut is.”
Peter uttered curses as he removed his hands. The rip of his pants was both long and wide, revealing the flesh of his rear to anyone who looked, even from afar. The cut was deep.
“Looks like you won’t be sitting for a while.”
“Bastial hell!” A gush of curses followed.
Calvon came back into the camp. His face didn’t show whether he’d caught up with and killed the man he was chasing. Concern came over him when he saw Peter hissing and grabbing his rear. “What happened?”
“He was shot,” Jek said.
Calvon’s head tilted curiously. “In the ass?”
“Yes, in the ass!” Peter yelled. “I didn’t even see it coming.”
“That would be somewhat of a challenge, wouldn’t it?” Calvon had a wry smile. “To be shot in the ass after seeing the arrow coming?”
