When the Behemoth Master made the request to accompany the women on their hunting trip, the Harpy smiled at him. “Do you really think you will be able to keep up with us on horseback?”
The Behemoth Master boasted. “While our training mainly focused on elephants, all heirs are trained in the art of horse riding as well. Among my peers, I was regarded as the most skilled horseman of the group.”
The Harpy laughed as she slung a bow and quiver full of arrows across her back. “Being the most skilled horse rider from a group of burly fools does not mean that you are capable of keeping up with us on horseback, but if you think you can stay with us and not fall behind, you are welcome to try.”
The Harpy then turned away and walked toward her horse. As the warrior woman walked away from him, the Behemoth Master was once more awestruck not only by the Harpy’s physical beauty but also by the confidence she exuded. The Behemoth Master longed to prove himself to the woman, not only as a mate, but also as a warrior and a leader.
As the Harpy mounted her steed and rode away, the Behemoth Master realized that giving the Harpy a head start when he was trying to keep up with her was not the best idea. The large man quickly mounted a nearby horse as the rest of the mounted division rode past him with spears and arrows in hand.
The Harpy led the mounted division deep into the grasslands that surrounded the Alps. It was early in the journey that the Behemoth Master came to understand that the Harpy’s suggestion of him not being able to keep up with the rest of the mounted division was not an idle boast. The young warrior found himself pushing his horse as hard as he could and yet even then, he was hardly able to keep sight of the tail end of the hunting party as they made their way deeper into the savannah. As best as he could, the Behemoth Master studied the manner in which the mounted women rode their horses in hopes of determining how he could improve his own skill on a horse.
His first observation was an obvious one and it was a factor he could do little about. He easily outweighed all of the women of the mounted division by at least a hundred pounds. There was little he could do to change that fact. There were other things that he noticed, however, which he was able to incorporate into his horse-riding methods to increase his speed. As he looked at the women riding their horses at a full sprint, he noticed that they not only kept their torso low to the horse’s neck but that their arms and legs were locked tightly to the horse’s body, cutting down on wind resistance. The Behemoth Master mimicked this action, and when he did so, he noticed an immediate increase in the speed at which his horse was moving. After only a few minutes of pressing his body as close to the horse as possible, the young warrior could feel his arms tiring from constantly being rigid. A small smile crept across his face as he understood that this action must be part of the reason for the well-toned arms and legs of the Harpy.
As he rode on, the Behemoth Master noticed subtle movements the mounted warriors directed their horses to do as they rode. At first, the Behemoth Master was unsure of why the women had their horses make these shifts. Slowly but surely, the reasons for the shifts became apparent to the Behemoth Master. Several times, a rider ahead of him would shift one way or the other and then a few seconds later, the Behemoth Master’s horse would step in a sinkhole that caused the beast to briefly stutter-step, which resulted in him falling slightly farther behind the rest of the riders. Other times a shift would be made, the Behemoth Master would be hit by a small gust of wind which would again slightly slow down his horse.
By following the sightline of the riders ahead of him, the young warrior saw that the women were paying close attention to the grass in front of them for subtle clues about these obstacles to their horse’s momentum. A slight bending of the grass in front of them meant a breeze was cutting through the field. When this occurred, the riders would shift their horses slightly to one side, allowing the wind to slide over them rather than push back on them. A discoloration in the grass or a patch that was unevenly grown suggested a sinkhole which the riders steered their horses around.
By the time the Harpy had called for her warriors to slow down and then stop, the Behemoth Master had already learned several new skills which greatly improved his horsemanship. When his horse finally caught up to the rest of the riders, he made a mental note to himself to go on future rides with the Harpy and her warriors so that he could further learn the secrets of their skill with a horse.
When the mounted division finally came to a stop, the Behemoth Master pushed his exhausted horse to the front of the group to find the Harpy overlooking a field filled with gazelle. The Harpy had stopped the horses at a point where they could see the gathered gazelle, but not close enough that they would frighten the timid animals into fleeing. The Behemoth Master had his horse trot up next to the Harpy. She kept her eyes fixed on the gazelle as her future mate addressed her. “The speed of your warriors on horseback is impressive, but the gazelle move like lightning. Do even your horses have the speed to run them down?”
The Harpy didn’t bother to look at the warrior as she replied. “It astounds me that you know so little of how to operate outside of your training camp. Was my deceased lover the last of the heirs to be taught any useful skills?” She pointed down at the ground. “The grass is tall and dry. There is also a slight breeze coming from behind the gazelle. That is all we need to obtain enough meat to fill our stomachs for weeks.”
The Behemoth Master remained silent at the Harpy’s insult. He internalized the criticism and tried to pay attention to what the Harpy would do next in hopes of learning yet another new skill.
The Harpy made a waving motion to both sides of her gathered warriors. When they saw the hand motion, riders on the left- and right-hand side of the gathered warriors began to slowly move their horses away from the group. The Behemoth Master remained silent on his horse, and the Harpy and the rest of the woman watched their comrades slowly move behind the herd of gazelle.
After slowly making their way around the herd of gazelle, the Harpy’s warriors slowly came to a stop. The Behemoth Master watched as the women slid off their horses and disappeared into the high grass behind the grazing animals. When the Harpy saw the women slip into the grass, she whispered to the rest of her warriors, “Spread out.”
At their leader’s command, the mounted division began to form a long thin line with about the width of four horses between each of them. When the warriors were in position and still mounted on their horses, they either grasped their spears in their hands or placed an arrow in their bows. In contrast to her warriors, the Harpy dismounted and placed an arrow in her bow. The Behemoth Master was unsure of what was going to happen next. He wanted to contribute to the hunt and learn new techniques but not at the cost of impeding the Harpy. Guessing that he would be best suited to not be in the Harpy’s line of fire, the Behemoth Master directed his horse to walk behind the Harpy. Then, with his spear in his hand, he also dismounted.
When the Behemoth’s Master’s feet hit the ground, he saw several fires light up. With the breeze pushing the flames and the dry grass providing ample fuel, the small fires quickly became a wall of flames moving toward the grazing gazelle. As soon as the fire began to move, the mounted warriors charged.
With a wave of fire rushing toward them, the gazelle had no choice but to run toward the oncoming hunters. The Behemoth Master watched as nearly every spear and arrow launched by the mounted division dropped an oncoming gazelle. As the herd of gazelle made their way toward the Harpy, she pulled back on her bow. When the first gazelle was within range, the Harpy shot an arrow through its throat, killing it instantly. With a speed that was nearly too quick for the Behemoth Master’s eyes to see, the Harpy loaded another arrow and shot it into the heart of a second gazelle. She repeated the motion over and over again, killing a gazelle with each shot. The Harpy was in the process of pulling one of her final three arrows when she yelled at the Behemoth Master. “Are you going to stand there gawking at me or are you going to hunt?”
The Be
hemoth Master cursed at himself for once more standing around like a fool. Nearly all of the gazelle had run past him and he was still standing there with his spear in his hand. The Behemoth Master fixed his eyes on a charging gazelle. The young warrior pulled his arm back then hurled his spear at the animal, skewering it with the weapon.
The Behemoth Master looked over to see the Harpy standing with her bow in her hand and an empty quiver on her back. In front of the warrior woman were a dozen gazelle with arrows protruding from their necks or chest. As she turned around, she was outlined by the fire and smoke in the field behind her. As the Behemoth Master walked over to her, the Harpy was backlit by flames and surrounded by the animals she had slain like some ancient goddess of the hunt. The Behemoth Master could hear his heart pounding as he walked toward the majestic woman. As great as his sexual desire for the Harpy was, it was overridden by his admiration for her skill with a bow. He shook his head in disbelief as he addressed her. “You didn’t miss a single shot.”
The Harpy shrugged. “I would have been disappointed in myself if I had.”
The Behemoth Master turned back his eyes back toward the field of dead gazelle to see the mounted division quickly pulling their kills out of the way of the oncoming fire. The Behemoth Master then turned his head back toward the Harpy. “Both when you are riding and hunting, you used the terrain and wind to your advantage.”
The Harpy nodded. “When I do so, any new warriors who have joined my regiment are taught these skills as well.” She turned toward the Behemoth Master. “Having seen this process for yourself, what do you think is a better method of instruction? Me providing guidance to my warriors out here as they learn skills that can be applied in riding, hunting, and battle, or you and Casrubol giving proclamations and telling stories of battles gone by?”
The Behemoth Master pointed to warriors bringing countless dead gazelle toward them. “I think the answer is obvious.”
The Harpy nodded and smiled in reply.
Chapter 6
The Behemoth Master awoke prior to sunrise. He looked over at the Harpy as she slept next to him. For several weeks, they had been sleeping in the same tent and he had yet to even touch the alluring woman. As it had many times before, the idea of trying to engage physically with the Harpy had crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Aside from the fact that she had told him she would let him know when she was ready to mate with him, his desire for her had grown far beyond physical attraction. He was totally enamored with her, both as a warrior and a potential lover. He had reached the point where he no longer simply wanted to mate with the Harpy. He wanted her approval as a warrior and her passion as a lover. The young Behemoth Master knew that it was entirely likely that both of those desires were beyond his grasp. The Harpy had clearly loved his predecessor. The previous Behemoth Master was a legend in the ranks of Carthage on par with Casrubol and Hannibal himself. The Harpy’s heart and admiration still belong to the deceased warrior. If the new Behemoth Master was to truly win the Harpy as his own, he would have to equal the accomplishments of one of the greatest warriors Carthage had ever known.
As he stretched and exited his tent, he reminded himself that in addition to his desire to gain the Harpy’s approval, he also had a mission to lead and war to win. He smiled as he considered the fact that success in his mission and possibly his desires could be attained through the same means. Leading his regiment through the valley and scoring several key victories against the Romans would not only prove to the people of Carthage and to himself that he was worthy of being the Behemoth Master, it was also a possible route toward winning the Harpy.
With the rising of the sun, the Behemoth Master, the Harpy, Casrubol, and Birilus were to discuss their entry into the valley, then Italy, and finally Rome itself. Prior to the meeting, the Behemoth Master wanted to take one last inventory of everything within his regiment. The young warrior rose to his feet, stretched out his arms, took one last longing look at the still-sleeping Harpy, and then exited his tent. He first checked his own armaments. On his personage, he had his sword, three daggers, and his battle club. Additionally, his spear and battle axe were resting outside of his tent and would be placed within his saddle on top of the Emperor when the journey was ready to commence.
After checking his own arsenal, he walked through the campsite. He took note of all of the men’s tents and the warriors within them. He counted all of the warriors, confirming that there were 40 elephant riders, and 200 warriors on foot. Next, he walked through the women’s tents and counted 100 warriors under the command of the Harpy. With his human forces accounted for, the Behemoth Master then made his way to the animals.
Including the Emperor, there were 45 elephants under his command. While there were only 40 riders under his command, the extra five elephants were there to help draw several of the carts of food which both humans and animals would need on their long journey through the Alps. The young warrior then counted out 60 horses, once more accounting for extra horses to help pull supply carts.
With the animals accounted for, the Behemoth Master then went to survey his weapons and supplies. First, he walked past several stacks of salted meat which constituted the remains of the gazelle the Harpy and her warriors had slaughtered on their hunting trip. Despite the fact that the Behemoth Master had witnessed the Harpy and her mounted riders slaying the gazelle in mass, when he saw the stack of dried and salted meat piled up on cart, he once more shook his head in wonder at the hunting prowess of the Harpy’s soldiers.
The Behemoth Master then walked past tons of straw and grain piled into multiple carts. The young warrior walked around the gathered food several times, as he was fully aware that the straw and grain would not only account for the food required for the horses and elephants at least until they reached the valley, if not longer, but the grain also represented a portion of the food for the hundreds of soldiers.
The young warrior quickly checked the water supply but with the snow in the Alps and the waste of the horses and elephants providing plenty of fuel for fire, he was not overly concerned about the water supply for his mission.
The last things the new leader inspected were the thousands of spears, shields, swords, knives, and slings that would serve as the arms for his regiment. This inspection was also completed relatively quickly, as the weapons available were easily visible throughout the journey so far. The Behemoth Master had already counted each and every type of weapon his regiment had available, several times. This final inspection was simply to assure himself that nothing had fallen off or been stolen by some random nomad as the party made its way to the foot of the Alps. Once he was satisfied that the weapons were all in place, he started walking back to the command tent where he would meet with the others.
The sun was just starting to rise over the mountains when he reached the tent and found both Casrubol and Birilus waiting outside. The Behemoth Master nodded at the men. “Thank you for being here. Did either of you see the Harpy? Do you know if she has left our tent?”
Birilus bowed his head slightly. “Sir, she is inside. Neither of us would dare enter a tent alone with your mate. We have too much respect for you to do so.”
The Behemoth Master laughed. “I have no fear of the Harpy’s fidelity. Moreover, I would hate to see what she would do to either of you were you to approach her with less than honorable intentions.”
Casrubol placed his hand on the Behemoth Master’s shoulder. “May I suggest that you not allow the pleasures a woman can provide in a tent to be equated with her skills as a warrior or her knowledge as a leader.”
The Behemoth Master stared at Casrubol in silence for several seconds before replying. “When I first claimed the title of Behemoth Master, I thought that my training as an heir had provided me with the military knowledge and leadership skills I would need to not only be successful in this mission, but in leading these soldiers for decades to come. I have quickly come to realize that I was woefully unprepared for the duties my new rol
e requires of me.” He shook his head. “The one thing I am grateful enough to have had the sense to realize is how little I truly knew about my role. I am fortunate to have had the Harpy to learn from thus far, and I assure you the most valuable skills she has taught me have occurred outside of our tent. I have come to appreciate her skill as a warrior, hunter, and leader more so than I do her beauty.”
Casrubol nodded. “Even if it is her skill that has won your confidence in her, don’t let her unduly influence your decisions. Remember, her last lover died with her accompanying him into battle.”
The Behemoth Master nodded. “My newfound perspective has me considering many viewpoints and sources of knowledge. I can assure you that I am trying to gather as much information as I can prior to making a decision. That is why I have sought the counsel of you and Birilus, as well as the Harpy.” He then stared into Casrubol’s eyes. “However, while I have come to value others’ viewpoints, know that all decisions I make are made of my own accord and are subject only to the review of Hannibal. Since the general is on the other side of this mountain range, my commands shall be final.”
The Behemoth Master then turned and entered the tent to see the Harpy looking at him with the slightest suggestion of a smile on her lips.
While the warrior was inwardly elated by the gesture, he kept his outward demeanor calm and walked to a table in the center of the tent with Birilus’ map laid out on it.
Valley of the Dinosaurs Page 5
