Monstrous Races

by K. Jewell

  The figure awoke when the boat began to whine and creak towards the end of its journey as it bobbed towards a small ramp. Faint light seeped into the tunnel from ahead, and the smell of fresh decay and compacted earth perforated the air. Stepping out tentatively the figure moored the boat, stretching out creaking limbs before hurling a heavy carpet bag over his back. Two tunnels lay ahead, the first numbered 4 from a curling mildewed sign, the other labelled 33. He paused and reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and reading it before screwing it back up. With a slight grimace he pressed on towards the tunnel number 33, eyes narrowed and tread heavy.

  Alpha Sawyre looked across at the rows of gendarme uniforms and smiled in spite of herself, knowing that this was the closest that many of them would ever get to being on the right side of the law. She'd heard a liberally-haired gorgadon explaining to an elderly dog-head female that this was simply a training exercise and nothing to worry about earlier, offering her a beautiful stone necklace as she went on her way. The stones were good, she had to admit, although nothing could match the lustre and effervescent beauty of the one that Elli was wearing right now. She'd chosen to remain in her simple robes with her St Christophe around her neck, and as the fat raindrops spattered over their heads she looked up at the heavens and prayed that Elli was far away from danger.

  She raised up her eyeglass and made out the army in the distance, shuddering when she saw the large cage being slowly pulled along by horses and ogres, the strain on their tortured movements obvious from her high vantage point. Max stood to her side, his Commanding Officer uniform starched to within an inch of its life. His black labrador head was listening, watching, waiting. Beneath him a hundred pairs of eyes looked up at him, ready for his word.

  They'd closed the last barrier now, and huge heavy metal gates separated them from the rest of Brayston, a thick inside-wall keeping the inner sanctum safe for now. All shared a look in the eyes. Fear and pride and...belief, thought Alpha Sawyre. In him. Strange how faith can take such differing forms. She pulled her robes tightly around her, the rain soaking through her fur onto her neck. And here it comes she thought, as the sky blistered above them all.

  The cellar door creaked and moaned as he hit it, relenting finally under the pressure of compacted muscle and a broom handle aimed at the lock. The tiles had been carefully replaced on the floor and earth-soaked footsteps had been crudely wiped away. He paused at the door, listening attentively for any sound to show that his whereabouts was known. He pulled a large wooden bat out of the bag and furtively glanced outside into a dark and tidy hallway, where fresh flowers stood invitingly in a tall glass vase.

  He stepped out and tentatively walked on, eyes darting frantically around as he grasped the handle tightly in his hands. After checking all of the rooms downstairs and swinging the bat around with abandon he trod up the narrow creaking stairs, his footsteps echoing from the tight walls no matter how gently he tried to step. He reached the bedroom and decided on a change of tack, kicking the door open and rushing in, the bat held aloft in front of him.

  Josie was tied to a single seat in the middle of the room, a white cloth pushed into her mouth and her eyes wide and afraid. She thrashed about wildly, her body pinned and her voice silenced. The figure stood still, shocked and confused, and then ran ahead to her, the bat dangling at his side. An outstretched foot appeared simultaneously from behind the door and he was sent sprawling uselessly at her feet, a tumble of limbs, hair and curses.

  'Rufus,' said a deep dark voice, kneeling to pick up the abandoned bat. 'About time too. Let's have a little talk about your friend Elli.' The large husky dog-head stood over them both and tapped the bat in his enormous open palm as Rufus slowly disentangled his limbs and sat on the floor next to Josie.

  'And you thought I was a rubbish boyfriend,' he muttered, as Josie rolled her eyes and looked down at him shaking her head. The husky dog-head stared at him with cold eyes then threw the bat onto the floor by his side and meshed his fingers together, filling the room with a loud crack. His muscles bulged beneath his shirt like smuggled watermelons and his neck was thick and squat.

  'Let's try that again,' he said quietly, controlled anger dripping from each syllable. 'And you can start with how you got past my men.'

  Lord Lansdown stood behind his army watching, his arms crossed and his fingers tapping his arm. The problem with warfare is that it's all so messy, flailing and screaming and general untidiness. He looked up as an enterprising ogre with a ladder was climbing up the wall rapidly, whilst above him a grinning gorgadon was emptying a bucket of very large spiders onto his head. Lord Lansdown shook his head as the ogre leapt into the air, pulling at spiders all over him and then realising too slowly that he was no longer holding onto anything and breaking his fall on a fat man below. Lord Lansdown heard the sniggering behind him and turned around, his eyes narrowed at the sight of Gerald covering his mouth whilst his eyes bulged and watered. And what a filthy old man, he thought, looking across at his wife as she smiled endearingly back at him through thin painted lips. I very much doubt they'll be with us much longer.

  He threw off his cape in spite of the rain and walked through his army towards the high closed gates. The space before him opened up without a word being uttered; men shuffled or fell out of his way, an invisible pathway opened up especially for him. Now let's see what you've got, as he smiled through the grey raindrops. I'm all yours.

  Max rotated his soldiers, the new ones stepping forward with polished weaponry and an old man who insisted on coming and carried some bowling balls with him. Max wiped the rain from his brow and shook his head, sending out droplets in all directions. Alpha Sawyre stood at his side, her robes soaked through and her gaze never leaving Lord Lansdown. She watched as he weaved through the bodies or rather they weaved around him as inevitable as night falling, his pinched face looking up at them as though they were something disagreeable. 'I'd stand well back if I were you,' he called out, his small voice full of self-belief.

  The ground trembled slightly beneath them as though the earth had yawned, and then his hands were raised holding a beam of light or fire between them. It surged and pulsed, blinding and beautiful, and Alpha Sawyre thought sadly of how it looked like the swirls around Elli's stone, only magnified. Her fur began to stand on end and all eyes were fixed on the light. He raised his arms above him with delight, and was so caught up in the moment that he failed to notice the bowling ball hurtling towards him at terrific speed. He sent the light straight at it causing an explosion of shards and powder, debris and mayhem. There was silence all around and then a distant voice called out from the ramparts, 'nice one Burt,' as cheers and laughter broke out within the walls.

  'Laugh at me will you,' he whispered, realising now that he was on the floor with his face in the mud. He stood up with uncertainty, suddenly fragile and vulnerable, stumbling and calling over to Captain Briggs who went sternly to his side. They whispered together and there were a series of signals from man to dog-head to ogre to gorgadon. Finally the matted gorgadon disappeared into the back of the crowd and made his way to the curtained cage sitting alone at the very back. 'Time for some fun I think,' said Lord Lansdown, wheezing and brushing shards of bowling ball off of his tunic. The roar was low, thick and deep, the same resonance as that of the earth shaking, and all then was quiet.

  Elli held on to her stone feeling it power through her now like a cooling breeze. Her fingertips crackled and her hair was on end, and in her eyes a new light of promise and danger and fear. The stone was warm to the touch and murmured in harmony with her heartbeat, lights swirling all around it like the swish of a cat's tail. George stood at her side, his hand reaching for hers in the doorway of the house. Together they walked through the street over scattered weapons and naked buttocks. Limbs lay in awkward angles as they daintily picked their way across, all bodies bare and heads aching against the cold ground as rain fell and pattered over them. Some murmured, others simply snored, and as they reac
hed clear ground Elli and George smiled and waved at apparent nothingness.

  'You're welcome,' came a merry reply from the ether. 'If it's alright with you I'd like to head back to Effi and Maud now. Nothing personal you understand,' the voice called out.

  Rufus and Josie huddled next to one another in the boat, his head resting on her shoulder as he snored into her alsatian ear. She looked up with venom at her kidnapper, his blue eyes glinting in the dark fusty tunnel. 'If only we'd known about this underground network, could have saved me a lot of time and effort. Still, I'm sure you enjoyed our time together,' he said, his canine teeth long and hard in the failing light.

  'Do you want the truth or a contrived answer from your prisoner?' she asked him flatly, feeling the rope digging into her wrists.

  'Oh Josie, you don't honestly think I'd have looked at you otherwise, do you? My intention is very simple. I'd like to be rich, and I don't see this one female thing working out for me.' Josie looked him up and down slowly, seeing the worked physique and the gloriously handsome features.

  'He's worth ten of you any day,' she said simply, feeling Rufus' hot breath on her neck and some warm dribble nestling over her shoulder. 'He always was.'

  The cart trundled towards the high wall slowly, as snorting and bellowing reached out at them through the gaps in the heavy canvas and the dirty rags strewn over the cage. Lord Lansdown's army watched it shake and judder with fury over the creaking wheels. Huge men and dog-heads slowly walked backwards, as far away from it as they could, and on Lady Lansdown's face a look of horror, a frightened girl beneath the lines and paint. 'Let me introduce you to my latest purchase,' called out Lord Lansdown, his voice strangely affected until it too was humming. 'I do so hope you'll enjoy it. Make sure you can all get a really good look,' he called out, wiping his muddy face with a cloth.

  He was alone now, standing to the side of the cart and then jumping up and pulling himself on top of it with renewed vigour. The cart shook and spat but he held on nimbly, enjoying the theatrics. 'Just bring me the girl,' he sang out as he whipped back the canvas sheet and pulled and pulled at it until they saw scales and claws and a long forked tail.

  The sound surprised them all as it came from inside the compound. All heads turned towards the sound and away from Lord Lansdown, at the sucking and spewing of bricks being pulled from the inner wall and at a bright hazy light pulling and wrestling each from their foundations.

  Elli walked through the open gap and looked up at them, dusting off her hands. 'I need you all to listen very carefully,' she said with a voice that was lower and earthier. 'You need to sit down first and face me.' They looked from one to another uncertainly and sat on the floor as though disturbed from a heavy sleep. The roar echoed around them, a murderous growl that ate into their very bones. 'Stay looking at me,' she said calmly, her eyes fixed on them. 'He has a cockatrice.'

  Chapter Twenty one

  The secret dowry and Bob Rowntrees’ dad

  'You cannot look at it, none of us can. The cockatrice will kill you.'

  'A cock-what?' she heard somebody mutter quietly, seeing the look of alarm register in some and sheer confusion slap the cheeks of others.

  'A cockatrice,' she said slowly, looking from face to muddy face, 'and it will kill you. That thing in the cage will kill you if you look at it. We are, in essence, in very serious trouble.'

  'Elli!' Max thundered, crouched on the parapet above her. 'Why are you here, and where is that boy of mine?'

  'He went to check on Josie,' she said as uncertainty crept in. 'He said they'd meet us here.' She was very aware that a hundred pairs of eyes and roughly as many ears were focused on them both now, and then a roar of blistering fury washed over them all, showering them in bitterness and contempt. Elli's body shook and she raised her head, her glance defiant. There was shouting and chanting over the wall, weapons smashed together in a clarion call, a constant churning of mud under heavy footsteps.

  'Cock-a what?' she heard muttered again as her patience gently dripping away.

  'It's got the body of a dragon and the head...' she took in the expressions but chose to ignore them, 'of a rooster. A very angry one who will turn you to stone if you look at it. So don't look.' She saw the curiosity pulling at their necks, whispering at them to turn for just a quick peek. 'Please,' she said, her voice intent. She glanced up at Max who nodded once, his head barely bowed and a cool efficiency lurking in him still.

  'So what kills it?' called out a curious gorgadon, his gendarme cap arranged at a jaunty angle over his billowing thick hair.

  'I don't know,' she said, watching their concern in bitten lips and stolen glances. 'But can anyone get hold of a weasel?'

  'Bob Rowntrees' Dad keeps badgers,' called out a tall man with a pointy chin which he scratched incessantly.

  'Why?' asked the female dog-head next to him, her dachshund head twisted to one side and her cascading ears gently flapping in the breeze. The man shrugged and screwed up his nose.

  'Puts 'em down his trousers,' he answered nonchalantly, as though it was perfectly obvious. This information was clearly too much for the dog-head, who peered at him even more intently.

  'Why?' she asked again, her eyes narrowed and her head tilted even further.

  'Couldn't get hold of no ferrets,' he said gruffly. 'He is from the North,' he added, tapping his finger against the side of his nose.

  'So discounting any unfortunate badgers, can anyone locate a weasel?' Elli asked again, hearing clamping and pulling at the thick outer wall.

  'I think I can,' said an ogre with yellowing tusks and hair like a thatched roof. 'Why do you want one?'

  'Because I think I was told to,' she said simply, and that was enough. The ogre nodded his head and made his way to the gap in the wall where he disappeared from sight.

  'Can I suggest that those of us who are fully capable of resisting looking out turn around and fling things over the wall?' asked Alpha Sawyre, her doleful brown eyes flashing with a hard glint. 'Perhaps those bricks behind you may be useful.'

  'Here,' grunted Max, removing his blue pressed jacket and ripping it into long even strips. 'Tie these around your eyes to make sure. And if you can't help yourself, then help us instead. Pass us things to throw,' he added, as a grappling hook seared into the wall by his side and buried itself inside it, flinging mortar and dust all over him.

  He calmly tied the cloth strip around his eyes and held out his hand, waiting for the bricks and rubble to make their way into it. When this was achieved he stood and looked over quickly, his cloth strip raised a fraction so that he could make out a huge ogre directly beneath him, its jaws gnashing with the effort of climbing and its tusks painted in reds and blacks. A vast, rusting mace was secured onto his back and his powerful arms gripped the rope tightly, sinews like fat wriggling worms on his hands.

  'Charlie?' Max bellowed before ducking his head as a long arrow smashed into the wall just below him.

  'Coming Max,' carried a gravelly voice, of rocks and sea-salt in the open air. 'He's only got himself a cockatrice,' he shouted up, his voice closer now. 'It's our lot coming up now, any that follow we'll kick down at the last minute. Pretend we're attacking you,' he called as his lumpen fists reached the top of the wall and he clambered over the side to be greeted with a quiet cheer.

  'What's the story?' Max asked him, as kegs of ale and legs of ham were hoisted up by pulleys, leavers and fraying rope to them.

  'Four hundred and seventeen men left after ours make it up here. Four hundred of them are about to keel over as long as they ate their bread this morning, and lie there for twice as long if they supped their ale. Spike sorted all that. Couldn't get to Lansdown though, he got himself a food taster' he said through a mouth like various shapes of key-hole, as more dark grazed knuckles appeared at the top of the wall and were pulled inside, this time waving a vicious sword at them.

  'Cheers duck,' came the voice, a human woman with matted hair and muscles like apples. 'Glad that's over then. And I
can't wait for a bath. I think there are things living in my hair, and I don't want to know what they are.'

  Cups of ale and succulent pies were passed along as more and more bodies appeared over the wall, scrabbling and shuffling over with weapons raised. Together they recreated the sounds of battle, hitting weapons together and screaming now and again until a bull-terrier dog-head peered over the ramparts and grinned before nodding his head once very deliberately. There was silence, small whooshing sounds and an echoing thwump noise outside as the final row of climbers were pulled inside and into the arms of friends and allies.

  Elli kept herself busy, fetching and carrying, thinking and brooding, looking behind her all the time for Rufus' gangling frame. She was ably assisted by an unusually tall gorgadon in a pinafore dress who remained in the background, the hair on her body gathered in pretty ribbons.

  It took Lord Lansdown some time to realise that things hadn't gone according to plan, and as his army began to drop to the floor all around them, some grinning inanely as they slumped down onto their knees or over their horses, he perched himself like a spider over the rungs of the cage and waited. This is about me and her, he thought, the power searing through his veins and arteries until the world was sharper, slower, cleaner. Patience, as his mouth twisted into a lop-sided snarl. He vaguely recognised that his wife and her decrepit man-servant, Captain Briggs and a handful of others remained standing, afloat but bewildered in the sea of slumbering chaos. No matter, he thought darkly, but I will make them sorry.

  The greying sky sent down heavy raindrops again as the hostages were carried towards Lord Lansdown in an open cart pulled by two flatulent horses. Billy 'the Duck' Pearson sat proudly at the helm, his husky face austere and handsome and the reins pulled tight in his gloved hands. As he got closer he saw bodies lying thickly on the ground, the muddy limbs and sharp weapons lying useless and discarded and heads resting on grimy earth.