by Cebelius
The crowd yelled and screamed advice, jeering and cheering as they rooted for wherever their money was. Terry couldn't help but note that most of the cheering and advice were for the other guy, and it made his lips twitch.
When has that ever NOT been true.
He rolled his jaw experimentally. It ached, and his tongue told him he had a loose tooth.
As he watched, he noticed Law setting a foot back, and recognized the prelude to a charge. Glancing behind him, Terry adjusted his distance to the wall and as Law came in with a bellow, he made sure of his timing and then half-turned, planting a foot on the wall and twisting as he leapt up and hurdled his opponent.
Law straightened, and Terry hooked a horn with his elbow. As he landed behind the minotaur, he hauled down hard.
Law's bellow turned into an agonized yell as he fell back and his horn snapped as it snagged in the hard-packed earth and the weight of his body came crashing down on it. A tremendous 'ooooh' of sympathetic pain went up from the audience, and a moment of silence followed after.
Law crumpled, then rolled clumsily to his feet, leaving six inches of ivory embedded in the dirt.
Blood started to drip from the broken stump and Terry saw tears in the minotaur's eyes, probably purely from the pain given the look of murderous hate he was getting.
I dunno if I made things better for myself there, or worse.
With another bellow of pure, unadulterated rage that was echoed and elevated by the resumption of cheering, Law charged.
Better. Definitely better.
Terry caught Law with another rising knee, and this time the big minotaur was brought up short as Terry felt things shift and break through the contact.
He landed, whipped a quick one-two into the minotaur's already broken muzzle, then pressed his advantage to begin systematically taking the staggered Law apart.
The minotaur was obviously beyond pain, yet also half-blinded with involuntary tears. His swings were savagely powerful, but wild.
Terry slipped them easily and continued to land shots to the face, giving ground as he did so, looking for an opportunity to finish.
It came in the form of a long right jab that left Law over-extended. Terry caught the man's wrist as he stepped outside and slammed his shoulder into the elbow. It didn't break, but it was enough to throw off Law's balance and Terry swung him to the ground by his arm.
The minotaur fell to his knees, then his belly as Terry straightened the arm and stood over him, locking the hold in with a knee to the back of the elbow and his foot planted just below Law's armpit. He gripped the wrist with both hands and twisted back, putting more and more tension on the elbow until Law howled in pain.
"You done?" Terry asked as he eased up just a little.
"You broke my horn!" Law bellowed, trembling with rage and pain.
"I broke your face too, and your arm's next. Now, are you done?" Terry asked as he slowly increased tension on the joint again.
"AAAAaah fuck! I give! I give! STOP!"
Terry released all the pressure, rotated the elbow down safely, then stepped away, panting. He lifted a hand and explored his face. He'd taken a hard hit, but the other man's fist had been so big that it hadn't concentrated force anywhere enough to do serious damage. He'd have a hell of an interesting bruise, and there was that loose tooth in the back, but otherwise he'd come through pretty much intact.
As he glanced around, the previously manic crowd was subdued, though there was still some ragged cheering going on. A significant segment obviously wasn't happy given the glares he was receiving, and Terry guessed they were the folk who'd bet on Law.
He raised a fist and turned a slow circle, then offered his hand to Law. The minotaur had gotten to his knees, but after a moment he reached out and took Terry's hand. Leaning back, Terry braced himself to help the larger man to his hooves, then clapped him on the shoulder as he said, "You've got some promise. Find a good teacher, and you'll be a real beast in the ring someday."
To his surprise, Law was smiling broadly despite his broken and bleeding muzzle.
"Thank you, Boss," he said, then paused to hawk and spit a bloody gob, his eyes crinkling with pain. "Even twice-beaten, you've given me back my pride. Templates are legends. You fight like a demon. People will be talking about this for years."
Terry laughed as he shook his head and said, "No I don't. I fight like a man, and so do you. Good fight."
The minotaur nodded and wearily agreed. "Good fight."
Turning from Law as the minotaur stepped to the edge and reached for the hands held out to pull him from the pit, Terry looked at Vlad and said, "Thanks."
"You are welcome, Template," the sabertooth said. "Though my help in solving your personal dilemma comes with a price."
11
The Price of Pride
Out of the corner of his eye, Terry caught the leaders of the various herds rising from their seats on the scaffold and bowing almost as one toward Vlad, who raised a hand to them and then twisted it, beckoning them forward. His eyes never left Terry as he said, "The spirits tell me many things, Template. Everything I do is for the betterment of the world in which I live. That, we have in common I think. I fear though, that I have put you in a difficult position."
He glanced at his bonds, then back at Vlad as he said, "You may have broken my bonds, but they won't put up with much. Tell me why you've done this."
Euryale leapt for the pit, but when she reached the edge, she was repelled by an unseen barrier that knocked her backward and sent her sprawling. Shy reached out, and pressed her hand flat against an invisible wall. Euryale got back to her feet and began stalking purposefully toward Vlad, who glanced in her direction, then took a small fetish off a leather thong at his belt. It reminded Terry of one of those little dolls from the Blair Witch Project, and Vlad speared a finger toward Euryale and growled something in a language that sounded like Russian as he dropped the doll of twigs and tinder into the pit. Whatever blocked his bonds clearly was no barrier to him.
Euryale froze.
Even her snakes seemed bound, but Terry noticed that the stick figure Vlad dropped hopped to its feet and began to move. It stumbled and fell, then got up and started running frantically. It slammed into a wall, fell again, then rolled and started beating the ground with its arms and legs.
"What did you do!?" Terry demanded.
"Euryale will be of no help to anyone at the present time," Vlad said conversationally. "Leaving her to bluster and threaten would only delay our mutual objectives. I have spent years preparing for this day. You would be well advised to tell your women to hold their peace."
"I won't tell them a damn thing," Terry growled. "I'll tell you that you're digging your own grave."
"So be it." Vlad seemed unruffled, and by now the tauren leaders were gathering around him.
"The Steppes have been the domain of my mistress for many generations, and if her will is satisfied by the loss of my life, that is a price I long ago agreed to pay. When the carnival convened here, I was already busy preparing this sacred place for your arrival. I have spoken to many of the herd leaders, and those who acknowledge the wisdom of the spirits are here now. There is a great evil here and another in the Wildervast. You will resolve them both."
Terry stepped forward and picked up the stick figure. It clutched his hand, and he cradled it as he said, "Keep talking."
The tauren crowds were only growing larger, and Vlad glanced around at them, then shrugged and said, "There is an unkillable creature rampaging across the Steppes. It is here because you made a promise. The promises of a man of integrity are known to the spirits, as well as all those who commune with them. You, Template, are a man of supreme integrity."
Terry's blood ran cold. He could only think of two 'unkillable' creatures.
Vlad confirmed his fear as he said, "The Dust Lord used auguries to determine where you were headed, and sent a welcome for you. Surely you can see now that you have no choice in this matter."
/> The shaman smiled, but it was not a friendly expression. "You are also a man who accepts responsibility."
"What do you need me to do?" Terry growled.
"Free Baba Yaga. Only she has the power required to do to Stheno what I have done to her sister," Vlad said, waving a hand at the motionless body of Euryale. "She is ... no longer in a form you would recognize. No force of arms may overcome her, no mortal technique may master her. Only one of the Powers can contain her long enough for you to do what you must."
"Vlad."
The sabertooth's eyes shifted, then the shaman turned his full attention to Yuri, who was stalking toward him with so much rage in his posture that the tauren leaders around Vlad backed up several steps to give him room.
"If you are here, who is protecting the village?"
"No one," Vlad answered calmly. "There is no need."
Yuri froze, and in his expression Terry saw the truth. Words that might have put an optimistic man at ease had done the opposite, and there was only one way to take that.
"You killed my cousins. You killed my father. You killed my brothers. Now you've killed the rest!" Yuri howled.
"I did not kill any of them," Vlad said, unruffled. Terry noticed that he had a hand on a talon fetish as he looked up with cool blue eyes at Yuri. "Your tribe has always been at odds with the natural order. They have been on the steppe for generations, and remained at peace with their neighbors. Their fates were sealed before you were born, Yuri Kolenko. I told you once, as I told all in your village: If you cherish life, attack the peacemakers. They are harbingers of weakness and slow death. Only those who fight may be trusted. Life is for the vibrant, the strong, and the willing. All others are walking corpses, revenants fit only to be beaten, burned, buried, and forgotten. Our people are born and bred for war. It has always been so."
Glancing his way, Terry saw that Yuri was shivering with barely suppressed fury. His hand was on the hilt of his great sword. He knew that Yuri would draw, and when he did, whatever the shaman had in mind with that talon would happen. Vlad was cool, collected. He expected this. He had planned for all of it. He was ready. Yuri — on the other hand — looked like he was holding onto the shreds of his sanity by his clawtips. If Terry wanted any hope of regaining control of the situation, he had to take a chance, and he had to take it now.
He bellowed, "Stop now, or I swear as God is my witness I will do nothing for Baba Yaga!"
Vlad froze, and Terry pressed. "That's right. And you know I keep my promises. Yuri, hold off. He's ready for you. Don't be a sucker. Let's hear him out."
Yuri's hand left his sword, and it slid a few inches back into its sheath on his back as he said, "There is nothing this man can say that will spare his life now. He is evil. He has destroyed my people, and I will see him dead."
"Talk fast, Vlad," Terry said. "It sounds like you don't have much time."
"Go into the Wildervast, Template," Vlad said, admirably still calm. "You are cursed. Your power is broken until the task is complete. Your bonds may not accompany you on this venture. It is forbidden."
Terry said, "First you undo whatever you did to Euryale. Second, you strip naked. Whatever bullshit magic you've got on, you step away from. Third, you surrender to Yuri."
The saber-tooth's lips curled as he said, "You are not in a position to make demands, Template."
"I sure as shit am," Terry shot back. "You need me or you wouldn't have gone to all this trouble. If you honestly think you can box me try it, but when the dust clears you'll be a tiger-skin rug on my floor. I've handled bigger and badder than you'll ever be."
"You are a hero," Vlad said with a barely concealed sneer. "You will do it. Hundreds of thousands of lives depend on it. I am aware of your nature. You cannot fool me."
Terry blinked, then tried to stifle his laughter as he said, "Look dude, I'm sure you think you've got me pegged, but let's see if you can follow my logic on this one. I am going after the Dust Lord. He's threatening the entire world of Celestine. If I have to choose between going after him, or going after Stheno, I'm going after him. You just told one of my best friends that you left his people to die. To me, that makes you untrustworthy. Following me so far?"
Vlad stared down at Terry in cold silence, so he went on. "I don't take orders from untrustworthy people. They take orders from me. The one thing Celestine has taught me above all else is that I can't save everybody. You can't hold lives over my head, Vlad. Anyone who dies out here because you tried will be your fault, not mine, and Baba Yaga will stay right where she is. So if you want this done, you will undo what you did to Euryale, strip, and surrender."
When Vlad didn't move, Terry tossed the squirming voodoo doll up to him as he added, "Right, fucking, now."
The saber-toothed shaman caught the doll, then slowly stood as he said, "For everything there is a season, Template, and every man has his moment. I can see that you hate me, but also that you are becoming more like me ... every day. Soon, your moment will come, and your ultimate fate will be decided."
Vlad's blue eyes bored into Terry. His words were flat and final. "A template on Celestine suffers one of two outcomes. The first is to die quickly. The second ... I think you have already seen."
He tossed the doll at the frozen body of Euryale, and when the two collided Euryale was flung backward into Shy, who wrapped the gorgon up and cooed to her as her snakes writhed. She twisted into Shy's arms and cried, obviously badly shaken by what had happened to her.
Terry's eyes remained on Vlad, who hesitated a bare moment longer, then began to strip.
A few moments later he was completely naked, and Terry said, "I'm already cursed, so all I need to do is go into the Wildervast — wherever that is — and find Baba Yaga, right?"
"Essentially correct," Vlad said. "I had planned to send you."
Glancing around, Terry asked, "Does anyone else know how to get to the Wildervast?"
Isthil stepped forward and said, "I kin get ye there."
"Good. I'm done with you, Vlad. Surrender to Yuri."
"Your bonds will not be able to accompany you," the shaman said with a glance at Isthil. "She will not be able to get you where you need to go."
"Joke's on you, asshole," Terry said quietly. "She's not one of my bonds."
Vlad's eyes widened slightly and he seemingly couldn't help the glance toward Isthil, who nodded gravely and shrugged, then smiled, her white teeth making it a startling expression on her ebon face.
Yuri's sword slid from its sheath with a sibilant hiss as he said, "Kneel."
"You are making a mistake, Yuri Kolenko," the shaman warned as he got down on his knees. "There is much you do not know."
"My people trusted you for generations. You used, then abandoned them. Tell me when I will know all I need, and you can go," Yuri said as he brought his sword up to a ready position, both hands wrapped tightly about the hilt.
"Heh. Fair enough, cub. You already know the answer to your question. Pride like yours has a price, and you will pay it soon." Vlad touched his temple just next to his eye as he glanced back to meet Yuri's gaze. "I will see to it personally."
"I doubt that very much." Yuri spoke with cold finality.
"Poor little Yuri. Even after all this experience, you are still making the same mistakes, running from true responsibility. You will never be fit to lead. Never. In the end, your greatest pleasure will be to die," Vlad said with quiet amusement as he straightened on his knees and held his head up high. Terry could see that he knew what was coming, and did not fear it.
Yuri nodded, and his lashing tail went still. "I believe you. You can go."
Yuri swung, and Vlad's heavy head rolled free and landed with a thump in the pit, followed a few seconds later by his tumbling body.
Terry moved to the wall of the pit some few feet from the corpse. He leapt, caught the overhanging bar of one of the braziers casting light down into the pit, and hauled himself out.
Prada came to him, touched him, and agony flared
through his shoulders where she made contact.
It lasted only a moment, then she pulled away. Blood seeped from the wounds she'd made where she touched him and sought to integrate into his flesh. They were shaped like palm prints.
"I'm sorry!" she cried, and Terry was disconcerted to be looking at Shy's face, yet hearing Prada's voice. "I ... I can't join you."
Terry glanced to his left and right as he looked at the wounds, then shook his head. "Vlad said I was cursed. He wasn't joking. I need to get this done ... whatever this is."
He looked at each of his women in turn. Shy still had Euryale in her arms, but she was looking at him with luminous eyes. Her expression was set and grim. He knew she was searching for his presence, finding nothing. Euryale would not meet his eyes. She was curled up in the dryad's arms, still crying.
Laina's expression was sad, but when he looked at her she said, "We'll find a way out of this, Boss."
He nodded. "I know we will, hon."
Mila had gone to her brother and set a hand on his shoulder. Yuri had slammed his sword into the earth and seemed to be leaning on it, his eyes squeezed shut with his tail between his legs. He was shivering, and it seemed as though he were struggling to contain his anguish.
If what Vlad had said was true, if his people were dead ... there was nothing anyone could say. Terry feared what Yuri might do now. He had taken Vlad's life when it was put into his hands. Terry had hoped he wouldn't, but had known it wasn't his choice to make. He wasn't about to come between his friend and vengeance. If their situations had been reversed, he knew he'd have done the same ... no matter what anyone said.
Halla was looking at him with a forlorn expression, and he asked, "You okay, La?"
"Will I turn back into a cyclops now?" she asked plaintively.
"No. I lose bond gifts when the women around me die, but you won't lose mine. It's okay." He smiled faintly. "You'll have depth perception for the rest of your life no matter what."