“Oh? I think that’s what my aunt can do.”
“That would make sense,” Caerwyn said, thinking back to her interaction with the woman. “I would guess she has other powers as well to affect the body. She didn’t touch me but it felt like someone was squeezing my heart while sitting on my chest.”
“Is that what she was doing? She said she could put me to sleep by touching me.”
“Again, powers over the body. Usually a drahksan’s powers fall within a certain realm. Some are combat oriented, like you and I, at least I believe that’s what your powers are. Have you found others at all?”
“No. I am stronger and my senses sharper, as you say, but other than that I haven’t noticed much else.”
“I was always much quicker and more graceful than any around me. My…” She’d been about to launch into a memory of her adopted father giving her a dance tutor and how well she’d done, but that memory only stung now. She didn’t want to tell him that. “I could dance easily, and combat training came naturally. I think you might be the same.”
He made a pensive sound, nothing more.
“It is said that some drahksani could manipulate the elements themselves, summoning fire or rain. Others were in tune with the earth and animals and could make crops grow or hunt like no other.”
“It sounds like everything we did was to help people? Why would humans turn on us?”
She sighed. “Because some of us weren’t so benevolent… and because many humans were jealous of our powers. Between those two factors it was only a matter of time before humans turned on us. Some saw what drahksani could do, for good or for ill, and didn’t like that we had so much power. They grew to hate us. Over time those ranks grew and they began to spread dark rumors about our kind, that we worshiped dark gods and performed disgusting rituals. Most drahksani didn’t think it would amount to much and dismissed it. Our foresight, apparently, was not that good. Eventually, more and more humans turned against us. We were spread far and wide over the world, and when the attacks against us began they were often very successful because there may have been only one or two drahksani families in a city. Easy enough to overpower if a lot of humans banded against us.
“In those locations where there were lots of our kind, wars began, us versus them. Some raged for years, which only served to increase the animosity between us. Some of our kind went into hiding then. But once the bulk of us had been dealt with, the humans trained men they called ‘Dragon Hunters’ to find the rest of us. Families living in secret were slaughtered.”
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “That’s what happened to my parents when I was young.”
“How did you survive?” Jais asked, she could tell he was well caught up in the tale.
“I ran.” she gave a harsh breath of a laugh then. “And I told you I was quick.”
“Oh.”
After a moment spent calming herself she said. “That’s how we got to be where we are today. You…” She trailed off. She’d heard something. She stopped, and Jais did as well.
“What is…?” he asked, voice hushed.
He must be hearing it too.
It was a distant crunching of underbrush. Something very large was moving through the forest, something that didn’t care if it was heard, which didn’t tend to be most animals.
She glanced at Jais as he looked at her. In the dim light of only stars and under a canopy of trees it was near to complete darkness, but his eyes gleamed, seeming to soak up any and all possible light, like a cat’s. She assumed hers looked the same to him.
He pointed and took a step in that direction, but she put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Thick muscles bunched and tensed under the fabric of his shirt.
“Wait,” she whispered. She didn’t want to make any noise, but he needed to be warned. “We should get Barami.”
“Let him sleep.” His quiet words were full of bravado, but she could hear the fear in his voice. He was forcing it. “We don’t even know it’s a kroll yet.”
That was true enough. She couldn’t imagine any forest animal, no matter how large, making that much noise, but they should confirm it was a kroll or Barami would be upset for being woken for nothing.
She nodded, and they moved into some thicker growth, picking their way through the underbrush. Their movement was slower now. They had been following a fairly wide game trail through the forest, able to move faster, but now, with twigs and seedling trees, bushes and brush, they had to move carefully.
She was impressed. He could move with near silence through the thick forest. He seemed as at home in the forest as she was. She wasn’t sure how he’d learned his skill or if it came naturally. For her, necessity had been her teacher, living on her own as a wildling in the forest and jungles of the west for three years as a child.
She’d been eight when her parents had been killed by the Dragon Hunter. Even now the violent images of the event were locked away in her memory, not to be recalled. Only flashes came to her when she thought of that time, fire, blood, and screaming. What she did recall, vividly, was the time afterward. She’d been living off the land, avoiding any other human soul.
Luckily her father had already taught her to use her sling well enough that she could hunt. She’d learned how to make fire and cook her kills. By a brutal series of trial and elimination she’d learned which plants were good and which would make her sick, but mostly she’d learned to stalk the forest like a panther, silent and deadly.
They were closing in on whatever was crashing through the forest.
The sound ahead of them stopped. Jais paused as well. He tilted his head, listening. She did as well. There was a different sort of crunching sound, the wet snapping of something chomping through bone. She felt an involuntary shiver course down her spine. If this wasn’t a kroll it was something that could eat another creature. Nothing to be trifled with.
Jais crept ahead.
A little farther on, Jais stopped and pointed.
She moved closer to him, to see through the brush around them. Pressed to his back, she could feel his hard muscles tense and bunch. He smelled of sweat and earth. It wasn’t the most pleasant of scents, but it suited him. She was tall enough to look over his shoulder and down his arm… and there it was.
A kroll certain enough. The gray-green skin wasn’t really discernible in the darkness, but the lumpy, uneven quality of the flesh was. Like humans and all other species, no two krolls were alike. They varied greatly in appearance. Whatever tortured mind had created these beasts chose to make them disfigured and misshapen. Some might have a third arm, perhaps fully functional, perhaps only shriveled and vestigial, perhaps only a stump. Others had a second head, usually lifeless, mostly no more than a great lump which tilted their actual head to one side. They were mountains of muscle, but how it was proportioned on the body was wild and odd. Usually there were great mounds on the shoulders and upper body, to the points that they possessed no discernible neck, only a head pushed forward by great, uneven piles of muscle.
This one had great powerful legs, muscles piled on his thighs and upper calves. It sat in a crouch as it ate what looked to be the remains of a deer. Its waist seemed far too thin for something so large, expanding upward to a broad, wide chest. Greater amounts of muscles were piled on its left side, tilting its bulbous, bald head to the right. Its left shoulder was twice as far from its head as the right. The right arm was still as thick around as one of Jais’ well muscled legs, the left was a monstrosity of muscle, longer and larger, with an oversized hand, which was holding the entire remaining deer carcass like it was a child’s toy. The head was large with great lumps all over and no visible ears, which was deceiving as they often had incredible hearing. It wasn’t a pleasant sight.
Pressed against Jais as she was, she felt his shudder of revulsion and heard his heavy swallow. Only now did he fully understand what he was going up against. Even crouching the beast was taller than he was, standing it would tower over them both by several
feet.
He turned his head back to her. Where she was, leaning close over his shoulder, this brought their faces to within inches. He whispered, hot breath on her cheek.
“How do we kill it?”
“We don’t. Not yet, let’s get Barami.”
Jais grimaced and rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t look that bad.” More bravado masking his fear.
She shook her head. “Don’t be rash. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
He sighed and nodded.
In the ensuing moment of silence, she heard… nothing, not the crunching of bones from the moment before. The forest was still. That wasn’t a good sign.
The kroll roared.
She cursed. Despite their whispers, the kroll had heard them.
“Get ready,” she said, and a moment later her shield was out and her spear in her hand. She moved to one side. “Let’s not stay in front of it. Move to the side, flank it, keep behind trees if you can!” No need to whisper now.
Jais nodded as he raised his axe. He jogged off to her right.
Gods, that axe seemed like such a small weapon now. But there was no time to worry about such things. She prayed to Lansus that he’d live through this…
She hoped she’d live through it as well.
The kroll roared again. It was heading for her, not Jais.
Good.
Also, not so good…
5
Jais charged the beast from the side as it bore down on Caerwyn.
His heart raced, beating so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. He held his breath, though Caerwyn had told him this afternoon he shouldn’t when fighting. His body was covered in sweat, partly from the warm, muggy night, mostly from fear. He kept repeating you can do this, to himself in his head.
He wasn’t certain what power propelled his legs forward. Only that he couldn’t let Caerwyn down. He was terrified of the kroll before him, but the thought of disappointing his newly acquired tutor, for some reason, pricked him even more, helping him overcome his fear and act.
The beast roared and stopped its charge through the forest. Its head reared back, and Jais could see a spear protruding from an eye.
He reached it all the quicker now and yelled a wordless cry as he swung with all his momentum and might. He leveled a great sideways chop at the narrow midsection of the beast, as if it were an ironwood he wished to fell with one pass.
The blade sunk into flesh, cutting deep… but not all the way. It hit bone and stopped, ringing up Jais’ arm so hard he let the haft of the axe go as a reflex action.
As it turned out, that was a fortuitous thing.
The kroll screamed again and spun around. His axe would have been ripped from his hands if he hadn’t already released it. Luckily he was on its right side, which was its smaller arm. He knew some attack would be heading his way and simply dove away from the thing to escape it. He felt a rush of air at his back, some wild swing of the beast’s arm perhaps, then he was rolling to his feet.
He heard a wordless war cry, Caerwyn charging in, and was surprised to see no weapon in her hand. Then at the last moment, she shouted something, he couldn’t make out the word. Where there had been nothing before, now her spear was in her hand as she lunged forward, plunging it into the kroll’s chest so hard the beast actually lifted from the ground for a moment.
It fell backward, and he heard the crack of wood as his axe-haft was crushed behind the thing.
Jais cursed. That was his uncle’s best axe.
Also he was now weaponless.
He watched as Caerwyn relentlessly followed up her attack. Drawing out her spear, she leapt atop the thing as it tried to rise, knocking it back down. She slammed her weapon down into its other eye. Apparently even that wouldn’t kill it. With another feral scream it swatted her off its chest with its massive left arm. Caerwyn went flying through the air, crashing into the forest somewhere to Jais’ left.
Jais bolted after Caerwyn. He found her lying in a heap, clothes torn and bloody. She was alive, surprisingly. She tried to get up, but winced.
“That’s a broken rib,” she said as he knelt beside her. Oddly the next thing she said was, “Davlas!” and miraculously her spear appeared in her hand.
He was too stunned to say anything about that but had to ask, “Are you well?” It seemed like a stupid question. She’d already mentioned a broken rib.
A roar from behind them, and the relentless smash and crack of brush and trees gave swift reminder of their foe not so far away.
Jais looked to see the thing trying to rise, but it seemed well injured. It was also probably blind. It flailed about, smashing anything within reach.
“What should I do?” he asked turning back to Caerwyn. For now at least the kroll wasn’t getting any closer to them.
She winced as she tried to move and after that kept still. “Krolls heal. If we leave it as it is, it will regenerate given time. Run back to Barami, fetch him, and he’ll finish it.”
Jais didn’t know why she kept assuming he couldn’t do such things. “We don’t need Barami. I can finish it.” He reached for her sword.
Her hand caught his, and despite her injuries her grip was still strong.
“Jais… no.”
“Why?”
“I… we can’t risk—”
A great single snap from behind him, too close, cut off her words and cause him to look back. The kroll was standing, if hunched. The snap had been a tree it had leaned against and broken. It was sniffing the air and took a tentative step toward them.
He wanted to swear to some god, but the fear of the creature hearing him gripped Jais. He turned back to Caerwyn leaning in close, whispering barely a breath in her ear.
“It’s too late. It’ll find you if you stay here. I won’t leave you. What do I do?”
Her breath was hot on his ear with her response. The words were slow, reluctant. “Take this, finish it. If you call its name, Davlas, it will appear in your hand.” She pulled his hand away from her sword and then pressed her spear into his palm.
It wasn’t a weapon he was familiar with at all.
“I…” He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t do this on his own… could he?
There was no more hesitation in her voice. It was sure, strong. “Trust yourself. You’re drahksani. You can do this.” She levered herself up to lean against a tree. It seemed to cause great pain to do so, but she was fighting through it. If she could fight, so could he.
He nodded, stood, and stalked back toward the kroll.
His blood was coursing, his breath coming quick. He was terrified and emboldened all at once.
The beast was far too close, four or five more of its long strides would bring it to Caerwyn.
No better time to test his new weapon. He threw the spear as hard as he could, and it pierced deep into the kroll’s chest. The thing cried out again.
“Davlas,” Jais said, and the spear vanished from the kroll and appeared back in his hand.
He threw again.
This time he charged in behind the spear, and as it sank into the thing’s neck, he threw himself, feet first, at the spot where his axe-head was still embedded in the kroll’s waist, trying to push it farther in, complete the cut. He hit it hard, then fell to the ground, scrambling away.
He called for Davlas again. It came to his hand as he reached a small clear spot in which to stand. When he turned back he saw the creature on the ground, flailing around, it was torn in half. The thrashing was slowing now as it lay there, dying.
He crept in carefully, quietly. Then with a leap and a cry he threw himself on the beast and thrust the spear down into where he hoped its heart was.
He followed that strike up with several more, in quick succession, perforating its chest a dozen times.
The kroll stopped moving. He’d finally put the blasted thing out of its misery.
He stood there for a moment, breathing hard, taking in the victory. He’d killed the beast. He… Jais… h
ad defeated a kroll… all on his own. No, not on his own.
“Caerwyn!” he breathed.
Pain coursed through Caerwyn’s body. She was certain she had a broken rib and arm. There would also be a massive bruise on her right side from where the thing had hit her. She was lucky though. She doubted that had been a full-strength swat.
She admired Jais’ courage, going off to finish the kroll alone — as much as she hadn’t wanted him to. She wasn’t sure if she’d have the guts to go out there again with as little training as he did. He probably had no idea what to do with the spear, but it was all she could think of. It was a great weapon, perhaps that alone would help him. Though… it hadn’t helped her.
From her spot, resting against the base of a tree, she’d watched him fight, desperate and brave. Good, he’d kept away from it for the most part until his wild full-body kick at its mid-section. But that had ended it clearly enough.
He was careful after that, and not long later the thing was still, dead.
Jais, pulled Davlas from the chest of the kroll. He hardly looked hurt at all. The boy had a healthy helping of inborn talent.
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