by Sylvan Scott
blockading legion to rejoin their forces inside the old castle. The foolish, old gryphon commanding the Royal Legion was clearly to blame. So poor was the royal morale that the soldiers hadn’t even cared when Aaron and Jahn showed up to offer their aide.
No one ignored a tahvic if they were smart.
Right now, though, he feared for the fate of his friend. He knew what dark purposes kidnappers would probably have for Sara. And while he felt sure she’d make more than a few of them eunuchs should they try, he felt honor-bound to fight for her freedom. Right now that freedom was being threatened by his growing enemy.
The terrmorah before him seemed to recognize Jahn’s intent to let the spell finish its course even as he swelled past three times the tahvic’s height.
Terrmorah were normally two-and-a-half to three times the height of a tahvic. It was clear that whatever magic was in use it was more potent than Aaron’s. When the terrmorah stopped growing, the bull stood five times taller than Jahn; nearly twice as tall as the nearby high towers and old battlements. The bull snorted and wiped the back of his hand across his muzzle. The big warrior looked down on Jahn with contempt.
“Surrender,” he rumbled. “Surrender and you shall live to see another day.”
Jahn continued to smile. He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. Jahn simply bowed, gripped the heft of his own club, and sprang forward.
The terrmorah swung his huge weapon in an arc over his head but was not prepared for the lopsidedness of his expanded weight. The blow was too slow and Jahn was upon him before he was ready. Aaron had said something during his wizardly studies that the magic being tapped probably addressed hosts of issues that came with excessive size: disproportionate mass, ligament tension, the ability of the heart to pump blood through such a vastly larger body... Jahn had ignored his theorizing. Magic was magic.
The tahvic’s leap was shorter than it should have been but as he’d been enlarged for the better part of a half hour, now, he knew enough to compensate. His club struck the terrmorah’s knee with a resounding crack. His adversary bellowed in pain and stumbled back. One of his hooves slammed down next to the catapult, crushing two of its handlers.
Jahn didn’t hesitate. He leapt again and dug his small claws into the terrmorah’s left leg. Straining, he tightened his grip with hefts of shaggy hair. He reached as far as he could and swung his club again. This time he aimed for the leather codpiece his opponent wore. He struck a glancing blow. At the same time, another explosion of pain sent him tumbling from his perch.
He tasted blood in his mouth and his vision was blurry again. The terrmorah had swung his club down across his body, scraping off the giant tahvic like a bothersome cat. Muscles straining, the terrmorah charged. His challenge cracked like thunder as his charging hooves crashed against the ground.
Jahn rolled to one side. Narrowly, the black hooves missed him. As he spun his body into a standing position, his head swam. This fight seemed more brutal at its larger size. Normally two hits to his head wouldn’t make him so prone to dizziness. He’d have to talk to Aaron about that, too. At the same time, his opponent was also much stronger than any other terrmorah he’d ever faced. The bull wasn’t as skilled but had a surfeit of raw power.
Jahn took several steps back and crouched. A scream and the crunch of tiny bones beneath his left foot let him know that someone on the battlefield hadn’t moved quickly enough. The terrmorah laughed.
“Why don’t you speak, little one? Is fear is revealing your people’s true nature at last? Your cowardice will be legendary after we drive off the king’s legion!”
Fury rose. The terrmorah were known as rage-filled brutes but clearly this one also knew how to elicit that emotion. Jahn had his pride as did all tahvic. The taunt stung. Still, he also could not allow his anger to cloud years of skill and training.
He gritted his sharp teeth and charged his foe.
The terrmorah gripped his club tighter and raised it above his head. His movements made it clear he was being more careful this time.
As Jahn came into his shadow, the giant swung the weapon down.
Jahn made himself small.
The giant tahvic dove forward, curled into a tight ball (still managing to crush a few of fleeing brigands), and rolled between the terrmorah’s hooves.
The intended blow overshot and the giant stumbled.
Jahn un-tucked and swung his weapon at the back of the terrmorah’s ankles. The wooden club cracked heavily against the joint. All of Jahn’s not inconsiderable strength went into the blow. A small amount of Sara’s training maximized the impact. As the bull bellowed in pain, Jahn sprang to his giant paws and struck again, this time at the other ankle. The second blow, stronger than the first, broke bone. The terrmorah roared but could no longer stand. He stumbled forward. Seizing the opportunity, Jahn leaped and climbed the creature’s legs. He scaled the giant as far and fast as he could in a few seconds. Then, he cracked the enlarged terrmorah over the head and sent him flailing into the old castle wall. The building, even in its prime, had been built to withstand catapult fire. It had not been built to handle tons upon tons of falling terrmorah and tahvic.
Flagstone, granite blocks, and ancient concrete shattered in all directions. Cries of fear and dismay from the brigands mingled with shouts of triumph from the legion. The catapult was abandoned by its handlers as debris rained down from the hole in the castle wall. The enemy defenses were laid bare.
Jahn strode forward and kicked some rubble aside. His enemy was still moving. He placed his club at the nape of the terrmorah’s neck.
“You should surrender now.”
The commander of the legion, aging gryphon that he was, proved as inept at capturing fleeing brigands as he was commanding the siege. Of the hundred or so who had made the castle their home, thirty had been allowed to escape. If Jahn had been in charge, each would be in chains or dead.
Hours had passed and he was finally reunited with the one newcomer who wasn’t an idiot. Sara knelt, showing him respect by looking deeply into his eyes. Jahn averted his own to spare her honor at having been the subject of a rescue.
“Thank you, Macaferty Jahn; you have done your family and mentors proud.”
Jahn smiled thinly. “You were amongst them,” he said. “How could I not offer you what meager aide I could provide?”
She embraced him and pulled the now normal-sized tahvic to her chest. He returned the gesture as a token of affection that he’d learned these newcomers respected. The two continued their embrace as members of the king’s legion strode about the battlefield either looting corpses or rounding up straggling brigands.
Aaron approached from afar. He’d been consulting with the legion on using his magics to capture as many of the brigands as possible following the main battle.
“That was amazing,” he cried. “Did you see what my spell did for you?”
Jahn broke the embrace and looked up at the leonine wizard. “I did see it, yes,” Jahn replied. “How could I not?”
Aaron was practically beaming. His tufted auranathi tail swished behind him like that of an eager dog. “I may still be new at some of this magic stuff but I’m getting better all the time! Next battle, I’ll see if I can extend the duration; make it last longer than just an hour!”
Jahn scowled. “I don’t think that will be—”
“And the captain: Sir Haulivan? He just offered us a job under his command! He wants to present us at court as advisers to the Royal Legion! I was in his tent not ten minutes ago and he said he was impressed by my spell-casting. How incredible is that? We’ll be living large from now on!”
The tahvic sighed. He pulled away from Sara, his fingers lingering in hers. She watched him with a hidden smile. Jahn walked up to Aaron, hands on his hips. Aaron, coming out of his excitement, finally looked down at the scowling tahvic. His enthusiasm was un-dimmed. “Uh, isn’t that great?”
Jahn punched him in the groin.
Turning to the sound of Sara’s laughter he
strode back to her. “Large living is overrated,” he chuffed. “Now get your pack; there are proper adventures to be had.”
Within the hour the three of them departed from the ruins of the brigands’ castle. Accompanying them was an over-looked, shrunken terrmorah. Aaron’s spells worked both ways and taking the pint-sized terrmorah with them as his ward was all Jahn had requested in payment. He’d been a worthy opponent and the formerly giant beast could maybe be taught some proper respect. He was embarrassed by his tiny size but he’d adapt to it. In the meantime, though, Jahn didn’t apologize for punching Aaron nor did Aaron request it.
It looked like the newcomer was learning.
The End
