by Paul G Mann
that cared little who or what they killed and ate. Normally pack animals, once they had selected a quarry there was no escape for the unfortunate who would often be eaten while still alive. He had been lucky it was just two juveniles he had drugged; if a pack had come it was apparent the drug wouldn’t have worked to the same effect and his plan would have failed. He breathed a sigh of relief as he watched from his overhead perch. Both animals knew something was wrong and began snarling and wildly lashing out with their front paws and razor sharp claws.
He only needed one for what he wanted; he drew back on the bow and sent an arrow into the eye socket of the nearest Ripper. It dropped like a stone. Now it was a waiting game, if he went anywhere near the other animal while it was still semi conscious he would have little chance of subduing it without risking serious injury and in this world serious injury meant death. Thirty minutes later satisfied the Ripper was unconscious he lowered himself to the ground, double checked the animal posed no immediate threat to him and bound it, front and hind legs and at the muzzle. The dead animal he skinned and de-clawed leaving the carcass to rot where it lay; hoisting the drugged animal onto his massive shoulders, he carried it down the hill to the waiting cart.
The villages had done a good job of constructing the cage; it was solid with a flat roof covered in thatch. A front door that slid up on a pulley allowed easy access while the sides had been made from thick wooden planking joined together with bone glue and rough dowels that once dried and set was as strong as the wood itself. Even an enraged Ripper would need a week to rip it apart and as Fred was hell bent on keeping his Ripper docile with the help of the blue mint juice he was satisfied that once in the cage the Ripper would be going nowhere until he released it. His oversized pet eventually caged, drugged and settled in his new home, he sat back to await the judges.
The boat had been playing on his mind. Twice a week it would be seen about a half a mile offshore heading north and then on its return south. It perplexed him; it was obviously on a predetermined course and running to a predetermined time table, why and who by was the questions he needed answering and the only way he would get the answers was by asking the person in the boat; either that or tracking it as it made its way north, not an option he had wanted to take with the threat of the judges hanging over the village.
He assumed either rightly or wrongly that anyone with the wherewithal to build a boat must have some knowledge of the sea. He wracked his brains until fairly certain he remembered right he asked for a flag to be made, half yellow and half blue with the yellow on the pole side. If he was right, that combination of colours was the maritime flag K denoting that the flag bearer wished to talk. Once made, he spread it on a rock over hanging the waters of the Inland Sea, and waited to see if the erstwhile sailor, out on the body of water would see the flag and recognise it as a communication signal. If not he would have to rethink matters.
With the Ripper caged he tendered to it each morning feeding it venison laced with a watered down blue mint cocktail that kept the animal docile enough to pose no danger as long as you didn’t go too near and aggravate it. With that small chore done he would set out westward to scan the countryside for signs of approaching life. He knew anything coming their way would be human; the Ripper would keep game animals away and the smell of one of their own would keep Rippers away.
Two weeks after capturing the Ripper he saw the first signs of life approaching East Harbour from the direction of Stonehaven. He was high on the mountain to the west of the village when he saw the tell tale signs from the smoke of camp fires drifting lazily over the trees. It was a windless day, not even the hint of a soft breeze to whisk the smoke away. The amount of smoke let him know that more than one fire had been lit; more than one fire meant a sizable number of men. He estimated five fires with between four and five men to a fire, approximately twenty to twenty-five judges he would have to face. He smiled; the smoke was still about two days journey away, plenty of time to fully wake his new pet. He returned to the village and covered the front of the cage with the leaves of a native ‘palm’ tree and roughly sowed them together to form a makeshift sheet.
Preparations done he sat back to wait only leaving the Ripper cage to check on the progress of the approaching judges. Two days later a villager came running from the trees shouting the judges were coming and everyone should hide. Normally Fred would have knocked the idiot out, but this time he served Freds purpose, it saved him telling everyone to hide from his Ripper. Bow and four quivers of arrows in hand, he rattled the cage sides enraging the animal inside; once it was in a frenzy he climbed on top of the cage and began stamping about, careful not to put his foot through the thatch. His efforts had the desired effect; the Ripper who hadn’t eaten in two days was well and truly agitated and began growling; a long low angry growl full of menace that made Fred smile as he relaxed and sat cross legged on top of the cage waiting.
It wasn’t a long wait; thirty minutes after the villager had run about warning of the judges they came along the rough track from under the tree line. His estimation on numbers wasn’t too far out, he counted twenty-eight, all armed to the teeth with crossbows and wicked looking spiked clubs. Their leader didn’t waste any time; the twenty-eight split in a well practiced move fanning out either side of the rough track about a hundred yards from where Fred sat with bow already knocked and ready to fire. Fred stood, bow in hand, arrow ready and shouted in a voice that dripped ice and commanded respect.
‘Turn and leave and I promise not to hurt you. Stay and I promise most of you will die’
‘Fred, if that’s who you are,’ their leader shouted back. ‘You are one man and I don’t care how good you are with that bow my men will cut you down within seconds. Give it up, return to Stonehaven with me and all will be well, I’ve been told to offer you a judge’s position as a sign of goodwill.’
‘You have to the count of ten,’ Fred replied.
He watched as a score plus of crossbows came to shoulders and aimed at him. He dropped like a stone to minimise the target area and as he did so he cut the thin thread holding the sheet over the cage front. The hungry Ripper saw men in front of it and went mad trying to get out of the cage and at them. Fred’s huge knife cut the rope holding the cage front and the Ripper crashed through it and charged the waiting bowmen.
Only two managed to fire a bolt at the enraged starving Ripper; both missed and the Ripper chased and sliced to ribbons in a blur of motion anything that moved. Panic, terror and confusion erupted among the judges; within a minute of the Ripper being freed half of them were either dead or seriously wounded. Fred added to the terror firing arrow after arrow at those judges who were running from the snarling animal. Two minutes after the Ripper was loose, between them, the Ripper and Fred, they had accounted for over twenty of the judges. Five remained on their feet trying to fight off the Ripper but the animal was a whirling lightening fast ball of razor claws and teeth. Fred waited until only two judges remained on their feet before sending an arrow into the neck of the enraged blood covered beast.
He jumped down from the cage and made his way to the survivors of the Ripper attack. Body parts lay everywhere, it was a sickening sight even for him but he didn’t regret his actions. These so called judges would have killed him and the people of East Harbour without question, they would have taken what they wanted without emotion and that included women if the tales he had been hearing were true. As far as he was concerned what they had received here today they deserved.
He reached the two survivors, one was bleeding from an ugly looking gash on his leg that showed the bone of his thigh, the other was unhurt but out of breath from his exertions.
‘You bastard,’ the unhurt judge spat at him.
‘You’re probably right,’ Fred replied with an air of indifference, ‘but I’ve done nothing that you didn’t have planned for me and probably everyone else around these parts. You were warned the last time you people came here that I would kill any judge who wanted to hurt me or the p
eople of East Harbour. Don’t come anywhere near this village again, if you do I make this promise. What you have seen today will be nothing to what will happen in Stonehaven, I will round up every Ripper I can find and let them loose on that pile of manure you call a town. After today you know I can do it, so the choice is yours. Go home; tell the people in Stonehaven what happened here and pray you and your cohorts never see me again.’
Five
He watched as the two made their slow weary way back to the tree line. Once sure they were on their way he turned and surveyed the carnage on the roadside. Bodies lay everywhere, some mutilated beyond recognition as a human being, others with limbs ripped off and ugly gashes from Ripper claws across torso’s, heads and faces. It wasn’t a pretty sight that needed cleaning and cleaning quickly before Newth’s answer to the fly’s of Earth invaded and the area was plagued with their fat little offspring that for all the world looked like maggots. Burial was out of the question; too many bodies to contend with to put them all in hole six feet deep. With the help of half a dozen villagers he dragged the bodies and the carcass of the dead Ripper