by Everson Cook
They slouched down inside the boat on opposite ends ignoring the liquid being absorbed by their pants.
"Well now what?"
Damon's eyes snapped open. Or, at least he believed they did. The water was too dark to be entirely certain. He took stock of his situation and realized it wasn't great. It would be fair to say it was mildly ok, at best. He could feel the pringxit's body moving close to his own, the serpent's warmth creeping through the cold depths of the water. Damon prayed to the Gods that it wasn't urine.
He made small movements with his hands and feet as he tried to navigate around the body and get back to the surface. Damon attempted to avoid the figure as it slid past, but he could barely make out his hands bound in front of him through the sediment.
The pringxit did not have that issue. It flicked its eyes back and forth scanning for Damon. The protective film that covered its eyes seemed like an unfair advantage. It made sense since the pringxit spent all its time in the water, but luckily Damon, who continued to struggle getting his bearings, wasn't aware of it or he likely would've complained when he had the chance.
Also unfair, the pringxit had gills. The gills flapped in and out in a steady rhythm as it breathed, expelling bubbles into the water. Damon swiped at one of the bubbles as it feathered past his nose. He scrunched up his nose as he tried to stifle a sneeze. Try as he might, he couldn't hold it in.
The pringxit perked up its ears. Yes, it had ears, another unfair advantage. The serpent snapped its head in the direction of the sneeze. A sneer drew across its lips. It would've been terrifying if Damon could see it. Instead, it was a waste of an action.
For all of the advantages the pringxit was blessed with, it did have one immediately obvious weakness. And that weakness allowed Damon to not die.
Damon saw a glow from the creature's eyes as they alighted on him. And he saw how the glowing eyes grew in size as they got closer. And, Damon realized, as they got closer, so did the creature's mouth. Damon thought back on the size of the pringxit's head and the length of its snout. He quickly did some calculations. Then, as he considered the fact that he wasn't good with numbers, Damon kicked his legs and drew his arms down as powerfully as he could in an attempt to get away from the encroaching glowing orbs.
Damon felt his foot get lodged inside something. He brought his other foot down solidly on whatever it was. He kicked at it as he tried to dislodge his foot. He reached down and tried to pull it out. Damon punched at whatever it was. He could feel the eyes watching him, but couldn't figure out why he wasn't being eaten. But with them that close, death had to be even closer. He started kicking his free foot harder and faster. Which was difficult to do in liquid. And very tiring.
Damon gave one last kick with everything he had. He saw the glow of the eyes disappear. Then he felt the sensation of water rushing past him.
"Wow, that's bright," Damon sputtered as he closed his eyes from the reappearance of the sun.
"Damon!" Kaateria said, leaping to her feet.
"Well, I'll be a mendor's bligget," Belosic said as he stood as well.
The pringxit then plunged back down in the water. Damon felt the water rushing past again. Then suddenly it changed direction, and he was brought out of the water again.
"Just stop," Damon yelled.
The pringxit swung its head back and forth trying to shake Damon loose. Damon continued yanking at his leg and trying to kick his foot back. In all of the movement, the chain slipped down the snout of the pringxit and got caught between its teeth. Damon grasped the chains in both hands, pulled up on them, securing them tightly in the pringxit's jaw, and leaned back. He pushed off with his free foot. With a pop, his other foot shot out of its snout.
"Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick," Damon said as he peered down at his boot covered in thick, watery snot.
He stamped his boot on the pringxit's nose, trying to shake the mucus off.
"Stop worrying about your dumb boot, and get down from there," Kaateria yelled.
"It's just so gross," Damon said.
"Listen to the woman and get your butt down here," Belosic shouted.
Damon pulled on the chains that were still stuck between the pringxit's teeth.
"Give me a moment. I have an idea."
The pringxit snorted as it continued to thrash its head around. If it wasn't for it having such a tiny brain inside its giant head, it likely would be suffering from a headache. Instead, it was merely tiring.
Damon dove off of the pringxit's snout, twisted the chains around each other as he spun, and landed with a thump right next to where Kaateria's sword remained embedded in the pringxit.
Damon grabbed the sword and braced his feet against the pringxit's neck. Was it its neck, or was it actually its body, Damon wondered. It was hard to say. A serpent is basically one long neck. Or body. And who gets to make that distinction anyway?
"Is this the neck?" Damon asked.
"What difference does it make?" Kaateria asked.
"I'm just wondering," Damon said.
"Wonder after you get down from there," Kaateria said.
"Belosic?"
Belosic looked at Kaateria and shrugged.
"It's the body," he yelled back.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Damon nodded. "It's definitely the neck."
And firm in that knowledge, Damon was able to loosen the sword from the pringxit. Its neck specifically.
The pringxit let out a peircing howl from the pain. It tossed its head back, swinging Damon back up and on top. As Damon flew past, the chain grazed the fin. The sharp appendage sliced clean through the metal.
Damon believed he landed with grace. And he actually did. He struck a pose, one hand on his hip, the other holding the sword angled up and out from his body. The sun glistened off of the blade. Damon was sure he looked impressive. He was right.
"Damon," Kaateria yelled.
Damon took his eyes from the blade long enough to wink at Kaateria. With the finesse of someone who was the world's greatest swordfighter, Damon swung the weapon at the pringxit. It was the killing stroke.
Or, at least it was going to be. Damon wasn't expecting the pringxit to lift its tail out of the water and flick him off like a horse swatting at a fly.
The sword went flying from Damon's hand. It landed on shore, the blade burying in sand, leaving the sword standing upright.
Meanwhile, Damon landed back on the boat, feet first. He held his hands out at his sides as he balanced himself. The hull glided through the water from the impact. The bow hit sand and sent Damon sprawling head first into the sand next to the sword. Ripping off what was left of his shirt.
Damon pushed himself up to a sitting position. He spit some grains of sand from his mouth.
Belosic and Kaateria got out of the boat. Belosic walked over to Damon and picked up the two strands of chains. He squeezed them in his large hands fusing them back together.
"Come on. You saw what I was able to do once I was freed from the chains."
"Yes, that was very impressive," Kaateria said. She pulled her sword from the sand.
"I know right," Damon said, missing the sarcasm her statement was dripping with.
"We can't take any chances," Belosic said.
A shriek rang out. And this time it wasn't coming from Damon.
Belosic pulled his sword from its hilt. Kaateria readied her own. Damon spit out some more sand.
Standing on the shoreline was a woman. Damon put her age at somewhere between eighteen and twenty. He had never been very good with ages though. She was twenty-one. The woman was topless and appeared to be doing her laundry. She held an obviously cold, wet shirt up to her breasts covering them from view. A curly strand of red hair bounced from her forehead.
"See?" Damon said while pointing at the woman. "I told you. It happens all the time."
The woman scrambled a little further back, leaving her basket of clothes behind. Several outfits were laid out on rocks, drying in the sun. At least one of them
looked like they shrunk.
The woman shrieked again.
"Poor woman. Probably got a look at Belosic before she could get a look at me. It's a shame really--"
A whistling rang out from the woods causing Damon to pause. An arrow landed directly between Damon's outstretched legs. It was closer to his crotch than he was comfortable with. With the shaft of the arrow nestled against his own, Damon exhaled slowly and blessed the Gods the water had been so chilly.
A group of fifteen armed women ran from the woods. One woman ran a little further ahead from the group. She had a thick auburn braid that ran down her back and a dress that poorly concealed her large chest. Damon appreciated watching her run, and he could've done it longer if not for one thing --She had another arrow notched and aimed at almost the same spot as the previous one.
29
Damon held his hands up in surrender.
"Drop your swords," the lead woman said.
Belosic and Kaateria considered their options. Their eyes moved from the woman with the arrow to the approaching group. They might be able to take her out, but then they'd have to contend with the others. And, they might lose Damon in the process. Which, after they had gotten this far, would be both welcome and bothersome.
"Can you stop considering your options?" Damon asked. He nodded toward the arrow buried deep between his legs. Then back to the woman with the arrow tip sharp enough to give him more than a little prick.
The other women had caught up to the first. They were all armed with various weapons that Damon didn't care to categorize although he could tell quickly that they ran the gamut from sharp to extremely sharp. The women ranged in age from late teen to close to death, which would put them at around fifty. Despite this, and the fact that the women appeared on the verge of possibly killing them, Damon took the time to admire their individual beauty. And each one of them was individually beautiful. In any other circumstance, Damon would've taken the time to get to know them. In the bedroom. As things stood currently, Damon couldn't see that happening. At least not outside the confines of his mind.
"Stiela," the oldest one said, beckoning the still screaming woman to her.
The woman fell silent, but remained rooted to her spot.
"Go," the woman with the bow commanded. She kept her eyes trained on the targets in front of her.
Stiela ran to the old lady, who lowered her sword and comforted her. Damon found it odd that the woman still hadn't put a shirt on, but he wasn't about to do anything that would draw attention to it.
"I'm not going to ask you again," the woman with the bow said. She drew the string tighter.
Belosic gripped his sword tighter. He braced for a fight. Kaateria, meanwhile, studied the women. Other than the one with the bow, the others didn't seem as confident with their weapons. They held them with loose, shaky grips that would've made their husbands happy. Kaateria touched Belosic on the arm. He looked at her and she nodded. Belosic grunted. He relaxed and dropped his weapon. Kaateria lowered hers as well.
"Ok, whew, I'm glad that's over," Damon said. He pushed the arrow's shaft away from his own and slowly got up.
"Leave," the woman with the bow said.
"Well, you see, we actually need to go that way," Damon motioned toward the forest beyond the women.
"No," the woman shook her head.
"Please," Kaateria said. "We mean you no harm."
"We're just passing through," Belosic added.
"And, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but there's a monster in that water there, so going back that way is out of the question," Damon said.
"Yes, the pringxit. It protects us," the woman said. "And you almost killed it."
"The pringxit started it," Damon pouted. "Also, I wouldn't say the pringxit is much protection if a man with his arms tied together can best it."
"He does well enough," the woman said, directing Damon's attention to the bits of white on the shoreline.
What he previously believed were shells and tiny rocks, he now saw were shards of bone that the tides washed clean of their flesh. Damon began scraping at the grit that still remained on his tongue.
"Look," Kaateria said, "We've lowered our weapons. Maybe you could drop yours as well. Then we could talk this out. Like civilized people."
"I'm sure there's got to be a way," Belosic said.
The woman with the bow shook her head.
"No."
"No...? No...?" Damon sputtered, each word taking on a different tone of disbelief. "No?"
"No."
"You'll have to forgive our friend over there," Kaateria said. "He struggles with that word despite the number of times he's heard it."
"I'd like to speak with your leader," Damon said.
"I'm the leader," the woman said.
"No, the real leader," Damon said.
The woman's eyes flared. The string creaked as she pulled it even tighter.
"Ok, ok. Maybe that came out wrong. What I meant was, the man in charge..."
There was a twang as the arrow was released. It whistled through the air and landed with a thud.
Damon looked down at his leg. More specifically at the stiff rod that stuck out from his pants.
Damon motioned at the shaft, then to the woman, then back down to the shaft.
"Ow!" Damon eventually yelled.
"Serves you right," Kaateria said.
"I'm so sorry," the woman gasped. She dropped the bow to the ground and brought her hand to her mouth. "Please forgive me. I wasn't trying to actually hit you."
Belosic strode over to Damon and pulled the arrow out. Damon bit down hard on his knuckle.
"He'll live," Belosic said. He tossed the arrow aside.
"Will I?"
"You know for supposedly being the world's greatest swordfighter, you sure do have a low tolerance for pain."
"Why do you think I became so great? It was to avoid the pain."
One of the women, a black haired beauty with sparkling green eyes, stepped away from the group.
"You don't happen to be," she said tentatively, "Damon Arkon?"
"You've heard of me?"
"From my sister," the woman said. Her cheeks flushed. She bit her lower lip before continuing, "She told me you could do things with your sword that were unimaginable."
"I've heard you're the world's greatest lover," another one piped up. She looked like she wasn't a day over eighteen. Probably, because it was her eighteenth birthday. She had messy red hair and fierce blue eyes that danced with excitement. And dimples when she smiled. At that moment, they were on display.
"Both of those things are true," Damon beamed.
The women, who were previously subdued, became quite animated.
"Can we bring him back to the village?" one of them asked.
"Yes, please? Can we?" the rest of the group asked excitedly.
Their eyes roamed over Damon's bare torso with a new found appreciation. And a hunger like a rodmenata staring down a grunderberr.
"Let's bring the big one with too," one of the woman called out. She waved coyly at Belosic who smirked. Kaateria shot him a look.
"What?" Belosic shrugged. "We've been on the road for a very long time. And it's nice to be appreciated."
"Ladies, ladies. The big fella and I would love to experience all that your village holds, but, we can't leave our friend behind."
"Thanks," Kaateria muttered. "So thoughtful."
"Now, how many does your village hold?" Damon asked.
"Seventy-five," the black-haired beauty responded, "who have reached womanhood."
"And how many men?"
"None."
"Huh, so, maybe we should leave Kaateria behind...?" Damon said.
Kaateria glared at him. Belosic shook his head. Everyone else made the wise decision of staying noncommittal.
"No? Ok, well, let's get going then. No time to waste," Damon said, briskly walking in the direction he expected to find the village in. Before succumbing to his injury a
nd dropping to his knees.
"No men? Did you hear that Belosic?" Kaateria whispered.
"Yes."
"Interesting. It's like everywhere else. I'm going to talk to that woman and see if she has any insights as to why."
"I'll help Damon."
Kaateria walked over to the woman who shot Damon.
"What happened to all of the men in your village?" Kaateria asked when she caught up to her.
The woman looked around unsure of how much she should say.
She watched as Belosic lifted Damon up from the ground. He wrapped Damon's arm around his shoulder.
"Thanks," Damon mumbled.
Belosic and Damon followed the women back to the village.
"Where did your party come from?" the woman asked as she turned to follow the others.
"We came from the kingdom of Flenshorn."
"That's quite a journey."
"We've been sent by King Glendorrys to recover something."
"The Ring of Ashmara?" The woman raised an eyebrow.
Kaateria remained silent.
"Yes, well, you're on the right path."
The woman stopped walking. "And tell me, on this journey have you seen a lot of men?"
"In the beginning," Kaateria replied.
The woman nodded. That was the answer she expected.
"They're being drawn to it," the woman said.
"What do you mean?"
"It started about a year ago. A man went missing from our village. Just up and disappeared. Not a word to his wife or the three children he left behind. Then soon another disappeared. Then more. My husband told me he was having these dreams. Dreams about a woman. And a ring. He told me he could hear her calling him during the night. Beckoning him. He told me that the others had heard it as well. He told me that maybe if he followed the call he could find the others. Bring them home."
The woman stared off into the distance. Like she was searching for her husband in the woods.
"I was selfish. I begged him not to go. I didn't want to be alone. Like the others. Then one day I woke up and he was gone. Along with the rest of our men."
She shook her head awakening from the reverie.
"Have you had the dreams?" she asked.