The Dwarf locked gazes with the smug Minotaur, who was even now drawing his bow on him for this third and final time and realised there was nowhere to go. If he ran, the hydra would no doubt spot him, scoop him up and serve him the same fate that had befallen his first foe. If he stayed where he was, he was completely at the mercy of the Minotaur. The archer nodded his head in mock salute as he prepared to deliver the fatal blow, letting Commagin know he had him dead in his sights as he brought his bow up to full draw.
A gleaming dagger blurred through the air, slicing through the bowstring and making the weapon snap back against the bowman. Commagin took in the surprised look on the Minotaur archer’s face then followed the arrow as it arched through the sky, spinning erratically, only to slam into the Nirschl head that Marcus was climbing high above.
* * * * * *
“Oh for heaven’s sake keep still.” Marcus swore, finding himself swung this way and that as the Nirschl glided itself around several swaying necks and slunk around spiky bushes and clumps of vegetation, sending the young man smacking roughly into its scales for what felt like the hundredth time. The monk grabbed hold of a long length of hair and vine and tried to clamber over towards the blood red orchid that was sprouting from a gap in the creature’s scales just under its chin but every time he tried to pick up momentum, the hydra changed direction as it slithered about the jungle clearing throwing him off balance. This was ridiculous!
Marcus snarled in frustration, gritting his teeth and refashioning his grip on the length of creeper, hair and vegetation, a plan forming in his mind. The makeshift rope certainly appeared sturdy enough! He took the length of Nirschl mane, pulled it tight, then leant out away from the Nirschl, planting his feet firmly beneath him, before using the vines to pendulum rappel himself around the neck of the creature, his feet running lightly across the snake’s scales, trailing the length of matted plant matter behind him.
The monk’s outstretched fingertips just brushed the blood orchid as he stretched out to try to retrieve it but the Nirschl chose that moment to dive towards the ground, leaving Marcus cursing in frustration as the plant’s stalk bounced and the blooms nodded at his failed attempt at capture. The monk cursed again, then considered what the Order of St Fraiser would think of his colourful language. This was obviously what resulted from mixing with the colourful crew of the El Defensor! Knowing that he could not stop his momentum and reverse easily, he found himself completing the circuit of the Nirschl’s head, the vine pulling tight across the hydra’s throat. The snakehead dipped, trying to free itself, further slowing the monk’s momentum.
Marcus found himself scrabbling for stability, reaching out to grab another handful of thick vine and hair with his free hand, to prevent the return swing, only to realise he now had a set of makeshift reins in his hands. He pulled back hard, drawing the loop tight and forcing the hydra’s head up, the monk gasping as the view changed. The snake shooting up towards the trees high ahead, an astonished marmoset sitting on a low branch shrieking in horror as the huge snout rushed towards it. Marcus eased up on his pull and found the Nirschl dropping back down towards the jungle floor again, making the monk’s heart leap to his throat at the sudden feeling of weightlessness at the instant drop.
The serpent’s head swooped towards the ground, dodging several other hissing and snapping Nirschl maws by inches, slithering over piles of squirming coils and offering Marcus a glimpse of the chaos below. His friends ran about hacking and slashing, pursued by snakeheads, snapping teeth and rolling coils of reptilian monster. One person caught his eye. Mathius broke from the undergrowth, dropping to pick up a dagger from the ground before turning to tackle a Minotaur who held the remains of a broken bow. They clashed head on, the assassin’s dagger flashing out, the Minotaur responding with a mighty sweep of the broken bow, sweeping Mathius legs from beneath him but the assassin was just as fast, grabbing the front of the Minotaur’s tunic and dragging him down as well.
Mathius rolled on the ground, wrestling with the brutish creature, slipping and sliding, trying to land punches that failed to cause damage due to the oozing slime coating both of them. Even as they struggled in the mud, the huge Minotaur’s superior strength started to show through, allowing it to land several teeth rattling blows, despite Mathius’s deadly hand-to-hand skills.
The assassin attempted to employ his dagger, striking out intent on plunging the blade into the beast’s breast but found himself overpowered by the monster, his weapon slipping from his grasp and dropping to the ground. The Minotaur landed another blow, making the assassin see stars, then used its bulk to push Mathius down, forcing the assassin’s face into the stinking morass they had churned up beneath them.
Marcus struggled to control the Nirschl, making the serpent head veer to the right and circle back towards his struggling shipmate, before pulling back hard. He now knew that the hydra would move upwards as a result, slowing its forward momentum, before the monk slackened back on the reins, fully aware the creature would then dive down towards the ground. The monster responded as expected, dropping to the floor, its snout grazing the ground as it crashed through the two fighters, knocking the Minotaur over and rolling the creature through the mud, even as its rippling neck shoved Mathius roughly off to one side, leaving the assassin gasping and scrabbling in the mud.
The monk turned his head to follow the action, his eyes searching for and finding Mathius, who somehow managed to stagger to his feet from the tumble and then started to scan the ground, clearly looking for his dagger. He offered a prayer of thanks to St Fraiser for his friend’s safety, then realised with a start that he was still steering the Nirschl! He looked up just in time to see another hydra head slither directly across his path, this one snapping and striking at Aradol.
Marcus’s hydra head crashed into the side of the other’s snout with an angry hiss, coming to a sudden stop before backing away, only for Aradol’s serpent head to open its jaws and spit a stream of venom at its attacker, not realising it was retaliating against itself. Razor fangs plunged into either side of the creature’s face, the teeth missing Marcus’s reins by inches, causing the monster to buck defensively, knocking Marcus from his footing behind its head and dropping him down to swing helplessly from the reins.
Aradol noted the advantage offered and swung his blade at the exposed throat of the Nirschl head that until seconds ago had been attacking him, his ancient blade slicing deep into the monster, parting muscle, flesh and shearing through the snake’s gullet. The serpent reared away, releasing its grip on the snout of Marcus’s snakehead, only to find that once it released its grip, its own head was now strangely loose and floppy. It dropped down to the jungle floor, knowing it was wounded and protectively nursing the vulnerable area, allowing the Nirschl head with Marcus still swinging helplessly from it, to silently glide away and nurse the smarting wounds inflicted upon its snout.
As the huge Nirschl crashed to the ground, snapping vegetation and sending up showers of dirt and slime, Aradol charged back in, swinging his sword with all the force he could muster. The brutal attack sheared through rippling scales and exposed a pulsating pink fleshy stump behind the snake’s head as the huge jaw slowly separated from the hydra’s neck with a squelch. Gore sprayed all over the young knight, thick viscous fluid pumping from the decapitated creature as the neck writhed about on the ground.
“And that’s two.” Aradol gasped, his breath coming in exhausted gasps as he staggered away from the hydra head and stepped over to the first one still twitching feebly on the floor. He swung his blade up high and slammed it down into the creature’s skull, piercing the monster’s brain and hearing its death rattle as he did so.
“Come on Ives.” Aradol gestured. “Help me roll this thing over. Your sword is still under here.” He stepped into the puddle of blood and gore slowly draining from the monster and started to shove hard in time with the spasmodic jerks of the creature’s twitching body. The rest of the massive creature was still u
p and fighting, struggling to drag the dead part of itself around the clearing as it responded to the other ship mates attacking it. The head slid several feet across the ground, gouging up mud and debris as the Nirschl gave a determined jerk and Aradol took advantage of the movement to roll the limp head over, bringing Ives white blade into view.
“Here we are!” Aradol grinned, reaching into the slime and lifting the weapon from the sticky slime. “Here Ives, catch!” The sword arched through the air, drops of gore splattering the ground as it flew straight towards Ives, only for the blade to slip straight through the merchant’s hands, crashing into a bush and landing out of sight.
“Oh come on Ives. I threw it right at you!” Aradol shouted, exasperated at his friend’s inability to catch the simple throw. “What’s wrong with you?” Ives tried to reply but found that what he was looking at defied description, he gestured wildly with his hand, pointing behind the young warrior, trying to warn him of the horrors occurring at the fighter’s back.
Aradol spun around, sword held steadily before him and stopped in confusion. He stared at the pink fleshy stump that had once been a snapping and snarling Nirschl head. Instead of the stump simply quivering or lying limp and flaccid, the wound pulsed, bulged and stretched as if something lay just beneath the surface. Flesh puckered and expanded, protruding then snapping back as if something were pushing outwards from inside the moist stump.
An ungodly shrieking rose from the wound, then two separate lumps appeared to push to the surface. The skin cracked, splitting open like a rotten vegetable, oozing out pus, gore and two shiny squealing hydra heads that uncurled from the single stump, scenting the air, tongues touching each other before they hissed loudly, turning as one to face their attacker.
Aradol could not believe what he was seeing. How could this part of the creature still be alive? He had just removed its head and now it had grown two more! What did it take to kill one of these things? He twirled his blade, whipping it around in his right hand, before bringing it in front of him and holding it with two hands.
“Ives. Please go and get your sword.” Aradol shouted, not daring to take his eyes of the twin serpents twining and swaying before him. “I think I’m going to need your help.” He dared not look to see if the merchant was carrying out his order, his attention fully focused by the slimy baby monster heads swaying before him.
“Just hurry up back.” Aradol muttered to himself, his gaze darting beyond the hissing Nirschl heads for signs of any other assistance that could be coming his way, only to note several snapping swaying heads and trunks of glistening scales crushing and flattening the jungle around him.
Was that Marcus swinging from a Nirschl head high above? Where was Commagin? Mathius and his blades? The unstoppable force that was Rauph? He really did need some help and fresh ideas here. What he would give for the archer right now. His gaze snapped back to the twin heads, which suddenly shot forwards, one high, and the other low, jaws open, fangs still stained with the pink flesh they had torn apart to be born.
Aradol rolled his neck, took a deep breath, then stepped forwards into the fray, hoping against hope that enough of his friends would notice his predicament and come to his aid.
…before it was too late.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ashe lay with his eyes closed, arms behind his head, trying to put it out of his mind just how bored he was. The cell held no obvious way to escape, there were no loose bricks, secret tunnels, enchanted rings or magical portals to whisk him away, despite a lengthy fruitless search. With nothing left to occupy his time, the Halfling had to content himself with imagining life once he managed to escape, in the hope that the method of this jail break would somehow reveal itself when the time was right.
At this moment, Ashe was painting a rose-tinted tapestry in his mind, hiding from the law, an outlaw on the run, living hand to mouth, visiting exotic locales, from mysterious castles to dusty tombs, ice fortresses to desert oasis, each stop adding further legend to his own personal heroic saga. Ashe the adventurer always saved the day, his trusty friend Sinders always perched on his shoulder. The Halfling rescued damsels in distress, liberated treasures for the ‘Keep Ashe Happy Fund’ and of course, vanquished the monsters and villains that all heroes dealt with on a day to day basis.
Whom was he kidding! Ashe sighed deeply. He could just see himself living in a tent; the reality would be nothing like what he imagined, getting wet and soggy when it rained, baked and dusty when it was not. Finding himself at risk of being eaten by grizzly bears or other monsters as he tried to eke out a pitiful existence in the woods, eating slugs and bugs. No hero of any kind would be so boring as to spend half of his saga hiding out in the woods camping!
A fluttering sound from above made Ashe frown and open his eyes, annoyed at the intrusion into his reverie. What could possibly be causing the noise?
“Aak, Squawk!”
“Sinders?” Ashe sat up on his bunk, staring around the cell. “Is that you?” Another loud cry sounded from the barred window and then a feathered blob crashed down from above, bouncing onto the bunk in the most undignified landing. Wings wide, feathers akimbo, clawed feet sticking out in odd directions. Ashe squealed with delight, making the strange bird try to pull itself into an even tighter ball.
“You found me Sinders! You found me! Oh I have some seedcakes for you in my pocket. I’m afraid they are rather crumbly now and this one has some fuzz on the edges but I saved them for you.” Sinders opened one mad rolling eye and started looking about at the mention of the food. Ashe offered some on his hand and laughed as his pet swiftly gobbled it up.
“You have to tell me where you have been.” Ashe gushed. “You have missed so much! Someone tried to poison Thomas, Rauph and the others have gone into the jungle to find an anti-goat. At least I think that’s what they said.” Ashe tried to remove the image from his mind of a goat that could heal people. He had no idea exactly how the goat did this and to be honest was not particularly interested. He was more concerned about the fact he had not been invited to go off and explore the jungle. Then again, Sinders had been missing at the time, so he had been rather preoccupied. He watched Sinders finish the first seedcake with pure adoration in his eyes.
“Then I found a place where they throw perfectly good money away.” Ashe continued, barely taking the time to breathe. “Only, just because they throw it away does not mean you are allowed to keep any of it. No matter how much you think otherwise. So here I am locked up for a huge misunderstanding. I’m expecting someone to come along any time now and tell me this is all just some big mistake.”
The door to the cell rattled as a key was inserted.
“See, there you go!” Ashe smiled and then a frown swiftly crossed his face. He had forgotten to ask if there was a policy about keeping pets in the cell. He did not want to get in trouble yet again. He swiftly looked around the room, not seeing anywhere Sinders could hide, then he slid over the edge of the bunk and ran towards the door, wanting to stop the gaoler from coming in and discovering the uninvited guest. Sinders waddled to the edge of the bunk then dropped to the floor with a squeak and rolled towards the Halfling.
“No stupid bird. You have to hide you have to…” The door creaked open.
Ashe’s eyes went wide. He looked to the door then down at the bird, then grabbed the only other item of furniture in the room and upended the broken bucket over the bird, only to look down and find Sinder’s beak poking out through the hole he had made earlier. The Halfling cursed, staring around frantically, looking for anything else he could use to cover the bird, before realising his time was up and planting his bottom on the broken bucket with a barely contained squeak. The door creaked open revealing two large Minotaur guards who came into the cell, took a quick look around to check the room was empty and then started to back away again.
“It’s about time you let me out of here.” Ashe stated sternly, the effect somewhat tempered by the fact he was sitting on t
he bucket. “Hey where are you going?” Ashe wanted to run for the door but he could not leave Sinders after just finding his pet again. He moved to stand up, only to find the doorway filling with the large female Minotaur that had been in charge of the feast from the other night. What was her name? Mora or something?
“Do you not stand when a lady enters a room?” Mora asked, as she walked into the cell, her long blue gown swooshing about her.
Ashe looked up at the leader of the Minotaur, taking in the long soft scarf she wore about her neck, the delicate golden tips of jewellery on her horns and the look of sheer distain worn on her face. In that moment the Halfling realised he did not like this lady cow very much. He moved to stand with the sternness of her voice, then felt his bucket jolt beneath him and sat down again as fast as he could.
“I’m sorry but I can’t stand.” Ashe replied, suddenly rubbing his hip. “I have some umm arthritis in my hip and the bunk here is so hard.”
The guards snarled out in the passageway, clearly unhappy about the lack of respect shown to their matriarch but a swift wave of Mora’s hand stopped the two burly bodyguards from coming into the cell and turning Ashe into a strawberry smudge on the wall.
The Labyris Knight Page 48