Bloody Knuckles (And Other Tales)

by T. W. Anderson

  “Why hello there, Donnivan.”

  The voice that crackled through was one I recognized. I cursed inwardly. “Derin. How goes it?” I don’t know how he had hacked my comm, but there it was.

  “Slowly but surely. Hope you don’t have any hard feelings about this. You know how it goes.”

  Indeed I did. I kept my eye trained on Sal as she neared the skimmer, Chuck’s blaster trained on her back. I couldn’t see the green dot from this distance, but I knew it was still there. Derin and his crew weren’t known for botching jobs.

  “How much is he paying you?”

  “It’s more about a debt I owed them. No offence, Jeffrey, but the Remen brothers pack a lot more clout than you do.”

  That was certainly true. But they also hadn’t rigged the cryo chamber with ten pounds of duracharges, which right now were about fifteen seconds from blowing a hole in the side of the spaceport, and hopefully taking Chuck along with his brother. I eyed Salina’s gait, noticed that she had slowed, and caught her brief glimpse towards me. I nodded slightly. Chuck prodded her in the back with his blaster to keep her moving forward.

  “Surely you aren’t going to try anything that stupid, are you, Jeffrey?” Derin’s voice was slightly amused on the other end of the comm.

  “You know me.”

  The comm clicked, and I ducked just as a bright purple bolt blazed its way through where my chest had been a moment before, searing my shoulder as it went. I winced in pain and fell to the ground, half rolling, half stumbling behind a support pillar. Two more bolts tracked my movement, digging chunks out of the concrete. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Sal as she shoved the cryo chamber forward towards the skimmer, rolling down and to the left as Chuck cursed, his blaster tracking her, another purple bolt coming from nowhere and nearly skewering him as he stumbled forward into the space where Sal had been standing a moment before.

  I shucked my blaster, took a shot at his backside. It missed, and sparks flew from the concrete a meter past him. He screamed something unintelligible and dove towards the box with his brother inside it, trying to guide it forward into the skimmer. Salina scrambled and ran towards Renée, bobbing and weaving as purple bolts rained down from somewhere to the southwest.

  I ducked behind a pillar and tried to catch a glimpse of her shooter. Crackling lightning and shards of plaster met my gaze as my own sniper’s blast nearly took my head off. I spat dust and blood, and shouted into my comm. “Any help here, Renée?”

  “I told you this would happen.”

  “Now is not the time for a debate, Renée!” I gauged the distance between the skimmer and Salina, and took another shot at Charles. It sparked the concrete at his heels. He ignored it and pushed his brother up the ramp of his skimmer.

  More purple rain from the skies to the southwest. I fired randomly in that direction from behind my pillar, heard and felt the thrum of Renée’s engines spinning up, saw the energy shield snap into place around her sexy, sleek hull, all dark grey and shiny just as Salina made it to the ramp, two bolts crackling against the shield as she smirked back towards me. I took a deep breath and lunged in her direction, trying to keep the pillar behind me between my back and Derin’s crew.

  A heavy thwump from the direction of the skimmer and I was flying through air, wailing as I went. I hit the side of a ship two berths over from Renée, felt my ribs crack again, then fell two meters to the concrete. Dirt, debris, and a heavy rumbling settled down over me.

  Static on the comm, followed by: “There are three new scratches on my hull, Jeffrey.” Her tone was heavily disapproving. “And it appears the structural integrity of this spaceport warrants a hasty retreat.”

  I rolled over onto my back and tried not to breathe against the fire and ice that was hammering my chest. A shadow loomed out of the dust, and I fired my blaster towards it. The figure dodged to the side.

  “It’s a good thing your aim is shit.” Sal’s breath was hot against my cheek as she pulled me to my feet.

  I nodded weakly and clung to her, limping my way towards Renée. She waited until we were up the ramp, then took off in the opposite direction from the blast. “Incoming message,” she said as Sal helped me to my chambers.

  “You’ve certainly lost none of your charm.” Derin’s voice was overlaid with the faint sound of sirens in the background; the local authorities. “I hope I don’t have to remind you that it was just business.”

  I grunted as Sal helped me lay down. “No harm, no foul,” I replied through gritted teeth.

  His reply was cut off as I heard the authorities fire upon his ship; he was either fighting his way out or hightailing it for low orbit like we were. I let Salina lay me down on the bed and inject me with something she pulled out of a duffle she had procured from somewhere. White mist rushed in.

  “Renée?”

  “Yes, Jeffrey?”

  “I’ll fix the scratches. Buff… buff them out… when….” The mist was making it hard to talk.

  “There are also two dents.”

  “Polish… paint job… I’m….”

  Lips against mine, a gentle kiss. The white blanket was so comfortable, and I felt myself sinking deeper.

  “And while you are at it, I could also use new hydraulic tubing for the scattering and thr….”

  The clouds embraced me, and I fell into buoyant oblivion.

  A Hero and His Horse

  By T.W. Anderson

  This was the third story I ever wrote back in 2008. It went through five revisions to get it to the point I liked it enough to start submitting it. Unfortunately, it never found a home, until now. The character name has changed a few times, and Byron wobbled between male and female a few times before I stuck with the male version.

  Something scuttled near the edge of my sight, brown and hairy, and big enough to give me pause. Byron snorted wildly and rolled his eyes as I dismounted and pulled my sword out of its sheath where it was lodged between the saddle and blanket.

  “Don’t move,” I told him as I slowly began to advance towards the bridge, sword held steady before me.

  He snorted again. “No worries there, boss. Whatever the hell that was, I’m pretty sure it would love the taste of horseflesh. I think I’ll just stand here and let you deal with it. I’ll be ready in case we need to flee.” He stamped his feet and tossed his head. I sighed. No backbone sometimes.

  My heart was in my throat as I approached the ancient bridge. It looked as though it hadn’t been tended in ages. The great stone blocks that arched their way across the span were covered in a thick green blanket of moss. Whatever it was that I had seen had disappeared beneath the structure, and while I was generally loathe to take the fight into a monster’s den directly, the Hero’s Code dictated that I was not allowed to pass a sighting without confronting whatever it might be.

  A nasty, acidic odor washed over me as I slid down the bank to the small strand of pebbly beach on the water’s edge. I could barely make out the silhouette of some huge thing huddling in the darkness beneath the bridge.

  “Come out into the light, foul abomination, and face your doom!” I personally hated the phrasing, but the damned Guild was strict on protocol, and believe you me, they would find out if I didn’t hold to the Code.

  The Thing did not come. I could make out its form, dark against the shadows, hunkered down. I thought I heard whimpering.

  “I said, come out!” I waved my sword for emphasis.

  Definitely a whimper. Whatever it was began to slowly edge its way into the light of day, cowering the whole time.

  It was a Troll. Nine feet tall normally, this one was hunched over and its brown-green hair was a nasty, matted mess of debris and such disgustingness a lesser man would have lost his lunch. I swallowed hard against the stench, and eyed the five-inch long fangs curling out of its mouth, the small horns that were just beginning to bud out of its skull. A young one, then, though still at least two hundred years old. The older Trolls, the ones who reach five h
undred, have much larger horns. Much larger. And they usually have fairly decent hygiene and grooming, to appear more professional when they demand their toll. This one looked as though he’d been dragged through a refuse heap and dumped outside of Cerberus’ place after passing out at the party.

  “Don’t move an inch, you foul creature,” I growled as I approached the quivering mass of reeking fur. The Troll suddenly stood straight and started sniffing the air as I came closer. Sniffing? Trolls never sniffed the air. Their sense of smell is horrible. They always rely on their exceptionally keen eyesight. Puzzling, indeed. I heard Byron hollering at me from above.

  “Hey, boss! I don’t hear any screams or anything yet. Should I head across the bridge and try to stir it up?”

  “No!” I shouted back. The Troll jerked at the sound of my voice. I put the tip of my blade at its throat. “Why aren’t you up top demanding a toll, like the rest of your kind? You trying some new ploy? Hiding under the bridge to scare the money out of them instead of hailing them proper? It’s been done before, Troll. I’ve scuttled hundreds like you. So don’t think you can lie to me!”

  The Troll cowered even more, reducing itself to eight feet. Still taller than me. I didn’t move an inch. I kept my sword at its throat.

  “Googa sorry he not up top.” The Troll had a quivering tone to his gravelly, deep voice. “Me have bad accident last year. I hear shiny man on horse, I go demand toll. He hurt me, make me not see anymore. I heard shiny man again just now. I go hide, stay alive.”

  I peered closer. Googa’s eyes had indeed been put out. Milky white orbs stared out from beneath the cliffs of his brows. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Only one man would have done something so cruel. “How did you know I was shiny?” Full plate was part of the attire required by the Guild, and while mine was a bit worse for wear at the moment, it still reflected the sunlight fairly well. I just hadn’t had the time recently to polish it.

  Googa shrugged. “I hear jingle of your armor.”

  I had to think about that one for a moment, trying not to laugh. It was hard, but the stench coming from him was enough to curb me from inhaling deep enough to laugh properly. “The least you could do is take a bath, by the gods!”

  He tilted his head and scrunched his face up. “Me can not see to wash good, Mr. Shiny Man. I sorry if me not pleasant. Hard to do when you handicapped.”

  I nodded. “You’re a young troll, Googa. Where is the rest of your family? Should they not be here with you, helping you toll this bridge?”

  Googa shook his great, shaggy head slowly. “Last shiny man kill them when he blinded me. He not nice. I want to eat him slowly.” The Troll’s hands suddenly clenched, large enough to crush my skull with ease. I stepped back a pace involuntarily.

  “Maybe I can help you with that. Do you remember what the other shiny man looked like?” It was my duty, after all, to dispatch justice and cleanse the Realm of all things evil. And if it was who I thought, it was a blotch on the reputation of the Guild that had gone on for too long.

  The Troll nodded. “Oh, yes. Me remember. Me remember what he look like, what he smell like, what he sound like. You sound like him on horse, but not so heavy on ground.” Googa sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring beneath the milky orbs of his blinded eyes. “You smell better.”

  I decided he was safe enough and sheathed my sword. “Continue on, brave Troll.”

  Googa snorted, booming sounds echoing from his throat. I decided it was meant to be laughter. “Me not so brave when big man in black armor that shine dark like night sky stick sword in Mother’s neck. And less brave when he take big pointy sword and shove it in Father when he try to grab man around neck. Sister try to run, but he take bow from horse and shoot her from far away. Me try to run, but he chase me down and curse at me. Told me that I evil, and he need to remind others what happen to evil. He take sword and slash eyes, make me not see anymore. Pain like fire on hand, only in head, and I go like dead for long time. When I lived again I could not see but found my way to bridge. I fell many times coming up river bank, cut knees and hands up plenty good. But me tougher now. Me remember his smell and voice. I kill next time. Make plenty good meal for few days, and I use his skull for drinking.”

  I blinked at that, then nodded, more for me than him. I knew the man he had described. He had been on the Hero Guild’s wanted list for a long time now, five or six years. Baleful the Black Knight, killer of all things larger and more impressive than him, presumably for the sole purpose of being the biggest, meanest, most impressive thing in the Realm. I had a sudden flare of righteous fury. It was time to catch that villain and kill him dead, as should have been done before he got this far. He was the anti-hero, the mockery of my trade, and I would have his head!

  And the reward for killing him. After which I would get his head. Well, the Hero Guild would want to post it on a pig-pole in the center of town first. Then I would get his head. Either way, eventually I’d get his head, and then I’d bring it back to Googa.

  “Fear not, good Googa!” I reached up to clap the monstrosity on the back, and thought better of it. “I shall dispense justice and eradicate the Black Knight and fight for your cause! In the meantime, I suggest a bath. You will get more tolls that way.” I raised my hand in farewell. “Be well, Toll Troll! May the gods of commerce guide you to your wealthy dream and a better hand than has been dealt you in the past.”

  Googa muttered something as I turned back and began scrambling up the crumbling bank. It was no easy climb in full plate. I kept sliding back down towards the river. Finally, as I was nearing the top, Byron’s long brown face suddenly appeared over the edge of the bank and he shook his head, causing the reins to slip free of the saddle and dangle down within my reach. I wrapped them around my wrist and he pulled me up to the packed dirt of the road.

  “You really should be more careful, boss. You fall down that bank into the river and you’d drown faster than a wet rat in all that armor. Besides, you know I’m not brave enough to go on alone. You wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to me, would you?”

  I removed my gauntlets and shook dirt out of them. “Fear not, my trusty steed. We have a task ahead of us that is no small duty! We ride to face the mightiest of foes, Byron!”

  My horse snickered softly to himself. “What, a woman? I think that’s the only foe you’ve never conquered, boss.”

  I felt my face turn red inside my helmet. “I will ignore your caustic remark, steed. No, we ride to face Baleful the Black Knight! We shall make all haste until we find him and then we will….”

  I trailed off as Byron fell to the ground in a faint. Damn horse had the wit of a jester and the courage of a mouse. I sat down in the dirt and settled back to cook inside my armor while I waited for him to come around.

  *

  Baleful’s path was not that difficult to follow. He left in his wake a plethora of mutilated corpses, burnt villages, and a pair of baby dragons that he cut the wings off of and left to live. A dragon without its wings is a devastating sight. I almost cried, even though it’s against the Code. Byron could not watch as I performed the mercy killings. Their pathetic little spouts of flame they spurted at me as I approached filled me with such loathing for Baleful that I began to crave finding and killing the bastard. And from the tracks of his mighty steed Inferno, we were closing in on him. Perhaps only a day or two behind.

  I was lost in thought and ignoring Byron as he complained about how much his feet hurt when we topped a hill and saw a sprawling village lying on the outskirts of a forest below. It looked to be a farming community, what with the outlying buildings connected to stables and corrals teeming with sheep, cows, horses, pigs, and other little things that run around on the ground. It was hard to tell at this distance but I thought I could make out children playing with a griffon in one of the fields closest to the forest. I blinked several times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things, but it was still there. A tame griffon? Well, move with the times or get trampled
, my grandfather always said.

  The dirt path into the village was hard-packed and looked to have been without rain for some time, the dust puffing up in small clouds beneath Byron’s hooves, then drifting away like an afterthought. I was sweating horribly in my armor and I was beginning to smell myself, which meant I was really starting to reek. It had been a good four days since my last bath and sitting encased in armor for hours on end tends to leave one not only a bit chaffed, but rather odorous. Byron was looking a bit under the weather as well, his dusty coat streaked with sweat trails and hand-prints from where I had slapped at the flies and stirred up the dust. I began to look for the nearest bath-house, but my wandering eyes were pulled to a halt as I saw the biggest, blackest horse I had ever seen tethered to a hitching post outside the tavern.

  “Um, boss? Is that who I think it is?” Byron sounded a little bit worried.

  I swallowed. Now that I had actually found Baleful, my heart was suddenly trying to scramble its way out of my chest and out through my mouth. Fear is a nasty thing, best left to children in the dark of night when something scratches at the window. It had no place in the heart of a Hero. I forced the feeling down. I was not a child. “The legendary steed of Baleful? Yes, I do believe that is Inferno. Why don’t you go check things out while I take a bath?”

  Byron’s eyes shot wide open and he laid his ears back as he turned his head around to glare at me. “Why don’t I…. You son of a hyena! How is that I get the job of scouting while you get to go have a bath?”

  I shrugged my shoulders beneath the plate. “Because nobody will kill a horse in cold blood. That’s worse than killing your own mother, even in Baleful’s book. Besides,” I said as reined him towards the hitching rail. “Unless my eyesight does me wrong, Inferno is a mare. Maybe you two will hit it off?” Horses are neutral in the affairs of their owners, usually. No matter how foul a monster Baleful might be, Inferno was nothing more than his mount. I bore her no animosity.