by Jan Stryvant
Something was roaring behind him!
Taking two steps back, he let the two råges that had been flanking him deal with the ones he'd been fighting and turned around. He saw it then, it was the biggest damn beastman he'd ever seen! And it had all of this dark black hair around its head.
And it was coming directly at him!
Snarling, Stakar moved forward. Obviously this one was some sort of a leader; it was wearing a full set of armor like the dwarves were, faerie armor he'd guess. It stopped that annoying roaring as soon as he turned to face it, a snarl on its muzzle as it attacked.
Stakar was on the defensive almost immediately. This one was not only fast, but it knew how to fight! Taking a firm grip on the swords in both hands, Stakar snapped a foot out and kicked the beastman in the chest, driving it back several feet, but not knocking it down. Stepping forward, he attacked. It only had one blade, while he had two. This was an annoyance, it shouldn't take too long. He was sure that by the time he was done, his råges, and his bondes would have killed the rest.
Ruthelma was in her happy place. She had someone she could slowly cut to pieces, and no one would complain to her later about it at all! The best part about it was that the ridder could actually take the punishment she was dishing out. She'd slice it down the arm, then laughingly slip out of the way as it tried to catch her with a backswing, making sure to let it get close enough to think that maybe, just maybe, it had a chance.
Then she'd duck back in and give it a small wound on its thigh, before unwinding a strike hard enough to take off a limb, that just barely missed. Then as it blinked in surprise, she'd slice it again, this time cutting a couple of the straps that held its armor on.
She smiled happily; she might live with her father these days, but her mother had been a Valkyrie who had taught her daughter all about the proper slaughter of one's enemies. It was she who had brought the lust for battle to Ruthelma, a lust that this poor demon was now going to satisfy, unlike any other had before.
Insats was starting to worry; this fey, this faerie, was unlike any he had ever fought before. She'd cut the straps on his vambraces, causing him to have to dump them or get tangled up. Now she was starting in on the ties of his breastplate! He had a dozen small wounds at least, and he'd yet to so much as mark her.
Twice now he'd thought he had her, and then she'd moved out of the way just enough that he missed, then smiled and laughed at him. He'd swear she was another of his kind by the way she was almost taunting him, teasing him.
She cut him again, a little deeper this time, and he had to backpedal, slipping on someone's blood and falling on his ass. Rather than run him through, she just stood there and waited for him to get up, waving the others back.
As he scrambled quickly to his feet, she waited until he'd raised his sword before attacking once again. It was then that he realized he was the mouse to her cat. She wasn't trying to kill him; she was just playing with him!
Ruthelma sighed as she saw the fear in his eyes. Sure enough, his strokes started to become clumsy, less precise, slower. His fierceness fled as he finally realized he had no chance, he was just a plaything, a vessel upon which she could release her frustrations and her anger.
Stomping a foot, she faked a thrust and saw the flash of fear in his eyes; he barely even tried to block her now as she came around and scored another slice on his arm, the black blood starting to run down it, making it harder for him to maintain his grip.
She stomped again, but this time she followed through with the thrust, which again he didn't even try to block, and ran her sword through the opening in his helmet for his eyes, killing him instantly.
"I hate it when they lose hope," she grumbled as she put a foot on his chest and pulled her sword out as his body started to dissolve.
"Oh, don't worry, love," Jonathon joked. "There's thousands more where he came from, I'm sure you'll have plenty more chances to play."
Ruthelma looked up at him and smiled. "You always know what to say to make me happy. How are they doing over there?" She motioned her head towards Bill's group.
"The cavalry has arrived, and while I think we could help, we might be better served by going into town and getting those who slipped by."
Ruthelma stood up straighter. "Some got by? What are you waiting for! After them!"
Bill was panting heavily as Roloff helped him finish off the demon before him. It wasn't one of the gnashers or bondes, it was something tougher. There had been two of them; Roloff and two of his dwarves had taken out the other one, while Bill had done what he could to hold off the one he was fighting until he could get some help.
One thing for certain, he was definitely going to start practicing a hell of a lot more. His speed was really the only thing that had saved him; that sucker was tough, especially after all the ones he'd killed before it.
Looking around, he saw the fighting was slowing; with the arrival of the reinforcements, they had the advantage of numbers and there were very few demons left alive.
Then he saw it, Sean was fighting that big-ass demon he'd been sure was going to kill him. The look on Sean's face was one of pure rage as he viciously attacked the demon again and again, blocking attacks with his sword, and sometimes closing in to block with his armored bracers as he used his claws as well as his sword.
The demon was giving almost as good as he got, battering back at Sean with those two blades of his, in a frenzy that was the equal of his son-in-law's. From the bloodstains on Sean's armor, he must have been cut in almost a dozen places, and the demon he was fighting didn't look any better off; in fact, he looked worse. Sean's wounds healed, while the demon's did not.
Cali was watching Sean's back, killing any of the remaining demons that tried to come to the aid of their master, as the two fought. Bill was both worried and impressed. He didn't want to see Sean hurt, and he definitely did not want to see him lose, as he'd come to care about the boy. But the way Sean was attacking the demon, the fierce all-out way in which he had committed himself and the skill he was using to do so, was impressive.
More and more people stopped to watch the fight as the numbers of demons quickly dwindled. The last few remaining tried to flee and were cut down from behind as they ran. Then in the blink of an eye, Sean shifted into his full lion form and launched himself at the biskop; getting its neck between his jaws, he squeezed tightly while all four of his paws tore at the body, ripping huge pieces of black flesh out of it. The demon slowly collapsed to the ground, and Sean shook the body like a dog would shake a stuffed toy once he got his paws on the ground as it finally went limp.
Sean stood over the body for a moment to make sure it was truly dead. He would have used his magic to distract it or stun it if he hadn't been so worried about messing with his regeneration. The fight had been a nasty one, and when his lion—not the First, his lion—saw the opportunity to end the fight, Sean had given him control and gone straight for the throat. Sean hadn't pulled back when his lion had taken over; he wanted to be a part of this, he wanted to feel the demon's life as it left his body. Oh, he was sure there were some things he'd still want to turn over to his lion, things he'd find distasteful.
But he doubted that killing demons, or djevels, would ever be one of them.
Spitting out the remains of the demon in his muzzle, he backpedaled a bit from the corpse as it started to slowly decompose into that black goo.
Cali came over and hugged him, and he didn't hesitate to put one of those huge paws of his around her and hugged her back.
"He was a tough one, was he not?" she asked.
Sean nodded and, putting all four paws back on the ground, he shook himself. "He definitely was. I think I need to train more."
"Well, training is good," Cali agreed, smiling, "but I do not think that I could have bested him, my Husband. He was very skilled, and fairly strong."
Sean nodded and, looking around, he saw Roloff and Bill, who were both heading towards him.
"Where's Ruth?" Sean asked.
"She ran into town with the rest of her people," one of the other dwarves said.
"Why would she do that?"
"I think some might have gotten around us," Roloff said with a heavy sigh.
"Oh, shit," Sean swore. "We better go check it out." He gave a quick look around. "Detail somebody to track any who might have escaped, call the helicopters back to evac any wounded, put our dead on the trucks, and get them rolling back to the ranch."
Roloff nodded. "We'll get to it."
"Bill, you can come with me if you want," Sean said. "Hunter! Squads one and two! Come with me!" And with that, Sean loped off towards the small housing development that was 'town'.
Sean started to growl as they passed the first dead body. It was an older man, and not far past him was an older woman. Picking up speed to a trot, he started coming across bodies left and right. The doors of several houses had been broken down, and he had no doubts as to what he would find inside.
He caught up with Ruthelma when they got to the third block in the neighborhood. She was sitting on the ground, and she was crying as Jonathon comforted her.
"What happened?" Sean growled.
"They got by me!" Ruthelma sobbed. "That's what happened! I was so damn busy enjoying my fight with that djevel that I forgot why we were here!"
Sean looked up at Jonathon who shrugged. "I don't know if it would have made much of a difference."
"But it would have made some difference!" Ruthelma sobbed.
"It says much to me that you care, cousin," Sean said softly. "We all make mistakes; I know you will never make this one again." Looking up at Jonathon, Sean continued, "Take her back to the ranch, I'll deal with this."
Ruthelma shook her head and stood up then, regaining her composure. "This is my mess, and I shall deal with it. I must face my mistakes if I'm to truly learn not to repeat them, Cousin."
Sean nodded. "As you wish. I take it you got all of them?"
Ruthelma sniffed and nodded. "Come, let us go see to the survivors."
Sean and the others followed Ruthelma as the rest of her troops caught up with them, and moved onto the next street.
"Hold it right there, or I'll shoot!"
"The demons are all dead," Ruthelma said. "We need to tend to the wounded and make sure that all of you are okay."
"You're the demons! You all lookin' like monsters and stuff!"
"We're lycanthropes," Sean called out. "Haven't you been watching the news? Werewolves and all that exist, and we're citizens."
"Did that lion just talk?" Sean heard someone mutter.
"Aslan! It's Aslan! He's come to save us!" Sean heard a high-pitched voice yell.
"Judy! Get back here!"
Sean blinked in surprise as an eight-year-old girl came running out of the house and made a beeline right for him, wrapping her arms around his left foreleg and holding on tightly.
"It's Aslan, Mommy! He's come to save us! I knew he would! He even got the evil queen to help!"
"I guess I would be the evil queen." Ruthelma sighed.
"Actually, you would be Susan." Sean chuckled and then looked down at the young girl. "I know my cousin there can look a bit cold, but I would hardly compare her to the snow queen. That's really not very fair. She's more like Susan, I would say."
"But you are Aslan, aren't you?" Judy asked, looking up at him.
"More like I'm just one of his lions," Sean said with a smile and then looked up at the woman wringing her hands and standing in the doorway.
"You can come out. It's safe now. Well, as safe as anything can be for the next few years." Sean sighed.
"You're a lion!" the woman said.
"Yup," Sean nodded.
"But you're talking!"
Sean nodded again. "I'm a werelion. I can also be a man when I want to, but I kinda left my clothes at home, and I think it would be a bit embarrassing to walk around in the all-together."
Most of the werewolves started to shift to their human forms. As they hadn't been issued breastplates yet, they were wearing their regular clothing.
"Now, why don't you all come out and let's check everyone in town before we leave. Some of these demons can do some bad things to people."
"Demons?" the man at the door said.
Bill had shifted back and, while his shirt was gone, he still had his pants, and he pulled out his wallet and flashed a badge.
"I'm Bill Channing, and I'm on the governor's special task force to deal with the demon invasion. You can call the sheriff, he'll vouch for me."
"The governor knows about this?"
Sean lowered his head while Bill was talking to them, "Judy, could you climb up on my back?"
"I can ride you? Just like Lucy did?"
"Of course you can."
Judy quickly scrambled up on his back, and Sean just started padding over towards the door.
"Hold it right there!"
"You shoot my daughter, Harold, and I will kill you where you stand!" the woman said.
"He's one of Aslan's lions! He's a good guy!" Judy said and hugged him.
"Aslan's not real!"
Sean looked up at Harold. "You've got a talking lion in front of you, werewolves everywhere, and you were just attacked by demons. Dude, put the gun down, or I'll introduce you to him personally, and I promise you, he'll be pretty damn pissed!" Sean finished with a growl.
Harold put the gun down and took a step back.
"Thank you. Now, let's check everyone in town out." Sean looked back at Hunter. "Get on the radio, have someone call the governor's office, and get somebody official out here."
"You got it, Sean."
"Great. Let's get started."
Two hours later, after Judy's mother had reclaimed her daughter, Sean shifted back to his hybrid form and headed back to the trucks that had carried everyone out. They'd sent the helicopters back for refueling and reloading.
"So how many did we lose?" Sean asked, putting an arm around Cali and pulling her closer.
"Seventy-two," Ruthelma sighed and shook her head. "If I'd only been less of a fool, we could have saved some of them."
Sean sighed and shook his head. "I wish I had the words that would let you forgive yourself, but even if I did, I don't know that it would be my place to say them. But I can give you some advice."
"What advice would you give?" Ruthelma asked, looking at him.
"Take Jon there back to your room and get rip-roaring drunk." Sean winked. "I'm sure he can help you work your way through it."
Ruthelma looked at Jonathon. "Oh, I'm sure he's got several things he wants to work 'through' me." She suddenly blushed as Jonathon purred loudly.
"Love can often cure what ails you," Cali observed.
"You just may have a point," Ruthelma said and leaned into Jonathon, who put an arm around her and purred even louder.
"Let's go home," Sean sighed and got into one of the trucks.
"What happened to Colonel Tibbets' observers?" Sean asked Bill while looking out the window of the truck as they headed back to the ranch. "I completely forgot about them."
"The two who stayed in the trucks survived," Bill said with a heavy sigh. "The ones who didn't, didn't."
Sean shook his head. "Well, I warned him."
"I saw their faces, the dead ones; it wasn't pretty."
"Yeah, I imagine having your soul ripped out and eaten isn't a very pleasant experience."
Sean noticed Bill wince at that.
"Did you get any pictures of their faces?"
"Why would you want that?" Bill asked, giving Sean a shocked look.
Sean sighed and shrugged. "Maybe it'll help me convince them not to send anymore observers."
"I'll talk to Gloria about it when we get back."
Sean nodded. "Thanks, Dad."
Because
The phone rang, waking Sean up. Grumbling, he reached across Peg and grabbed it, answering the call.
"This better be good, or you're a dead man," Sean growled as he
sat up in bed and looked around, trying to figure out the best way to get out of it without disturbing his wives.
"Sean, it's Steve, we got problems."
Sean groaned, "Now what?"
"There's a lot of people here in Washington who aren't happy with what went down yesterday."
"Oh, so suddenly they realize that there's a war on?" Sean grumbled and looked over at the clock; it was just past four in the morning.
"They've heard about the people who were killed by the demons, and they're all up in arms about it, especially some of the military types. They want to know why they didn't have a larger role."
"Are these the same people who've been refusing to talk to us and claiming that this was all some sort of scam?" Sean said as he carefully picked his way across the bed and made his way out of the bedroom.
"Yup, and this being Washington, there's a lot of face saving going on," Steve said with a hint of anger in his own voice.
"Well, I lost twenty-two of my own yesterday; you might want to warn these people that if I have to fly back there, I'm liable to rip their faces clean off before I rip open their chest to see if they actually have a heart or not," Sean growled, closing the bedroom door and leaning up against the wall in the hallway. "So what do they want?"
"Not how much trouble are we in?"
Sean snorted. "We're always in trouble, Steve. I think it's our default state of being. What do they want this time? You're the one who told me it's always about them wanting something."
"I don't know yet, and that's half the problem. I've got a meeting with the President later today that was already scheduled before this. Apparently one of the generals on the Joint Chiefs was supposed to meet with me, but he's been finding excuses and delaying. Now that I've got Carl's boss Kensington on our side, he's starting to apply some pressure."
"Good. I got your request for swords and breastplates. I'll tell Maitland to give it priority."
