The Golden Stag

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The Golden Stag Page 4

by Mark Baggett

clumsy brothers, Daniil was easy to spot in the wood. He refused to dress in a fashion that would hide his presence. Nor could he realistically deprive himself of his drink. The frequent tinkle of glass often gave away his presence. At other times it was the reek of spilled alcohol. And then there was the loud snoring…

  About this time Dmitri finally realized that something was afoot and he had simply missed all the clues. But finding his father to be trailing him was indisputable proof. Daniil had long ago ceased to recognize his wolfen heritage. He was no longer one to retire to the damp wood for comfort as Dmitri did.

  There were also other hints of his being followed. The odd tracks, strange noises, and the lack of game nearby. Not to mention the absence of the stag.

  It did not take a wise man to come to the conclusion that he was being stalked. But why would anyone do so?

  Again it was no stretch of the imagination to answer. There was absolutely nothing to warrant attention to his life save his connection to the Golden Stag. He had admitted freely to seeing it on many an occasion.

  So this was what drove the old drunkard to follow him? Then it would be a welcome test to draw the man deep into the wood and then have him lost forever. But Daniil was wolfen, somewhere in that bloated body resided the wolf. Wolves were never truly lost. The question was only; could he still draw out that beast?

  The matter was troubling. Daniil had been a powerful wolfen in his heyday, at least according to his mother. The man had been quite feared. What if Dmitri awoke the sleeping beast inside? He could not protect himself as it were from the man; the wrath of the wolf would be overwhelming.

  It was times such as this that he furiously wished to be older. The age old rule was that the child was never safe from the wolf in his soul. Only when he was a man, at least eighteen years of age, could the wolfen finally be released safely. And even then the first time was often devastating. Sometimes fatally.

  Dmitri still had years remaining until he was a man, and thus a wolf.

  Withdrawing into the wood Dmitri left his father to sleep off his excesses. It was a wise move on his part. But it left an ugly taste in his mouth doing so.

  This was the moment that he realized that he had replaced fear of Daniil with loathing. He hadn’t even noticed the change happening.

  Mired in these sticky thoughts the youngster almost walked right into the silent and unmoving stag.

  Startled from his contemplations Dmitri twisted and nearly fell upon some slippery moss. The stag, stoic as always, seemed unmoved by his plight.

  “Why must you do that?” he snapped in anger as he collected himself. Instantly he noted how close he had been allowed to get to the beast. The last time he was this close had been when Grigory died.

  Immediately his cheeks flushed in anger. Brows knitted furiously Dmitri cautiously forced himself to calm down. The lesson learned about controlling his rage had been a difficult one. Even now he still felt the scars on his psyche.

  Little could he understand that these would be lifelong scars.

  “Do what, young ward?” the Golden Stag answered quietly.

  “Sneak up on me,” the boy snapped harshly. The animal was constantly playing games with his mind. It could not even answer a question without a question. He was weary of the treatment. “You are always watching… you’re no better than the others.”

  Aware that he had inadvertently betrayed a conspiracy of which he was center of attention Dmitri withdrew. He became sullen. He never should have broached the matter. The others were human, possibly wolfen – his brethren, someday – but the stag was not. No, it was not even real. Well, it was real in a sense… It was all so confusing to the boy. He could not quite wrap his head around the matter.

  But one thing was ascertain: the Golden Stag had murdered Grigory. That made it the enemy.

  Roiling in bitterness and resentment Dmitri turned his back on the mythical beast. He had no use for the thing. None whatsoever. Chin down he slouched then walked away.

  “Why would you follow me? No one cares.”

  “Someone cared. Or else you would not exist,” the stag answered swiftly as it ambled after him. This, Dmitri groaned as he searched the patchwork sky above, he could do without. Why had he opened his big mouth again?

  “My mother, perhaps. But she is dead.”

  “And?”

  With a sigh he acquiesced to the intrusion. “Grigory cared. But he is also dead, thanks to you monster.”

  His last remark faded into the woodland unchallenged and Dmitri toyed with the idea of trying to unleash the beast in his soul. It wanted out. He wanted it free to rent and tear flesh. To kill the monster beside him.

  But then he would certainly be dead as well. But was that such a bad thing? Everyone else he cared for was gone in one fashion or another. Death did not terrify him any longer.

  “He must have loved you immensely to act as he did,” the stag added reverently. But it was not the sort of thing Dmitri wanted to hear. All he wanted was to be left alone.

  “Why do you persist, creature? Do you not have a life of your own to foul? Why must you be a plague upon me?”

  When the stag barked in laughter Dmitri turned on the animal. How he hated this thing.

  “In fact I do have… other matters, young wolf.”

  “Then why not leave me alone? Go! You have my eternal thanks, would you only leave.”

  With a loud exhalation the Golden Stag lowered its massive head and rack. “Would that it was so very simple.”

  “It is. Go!”

  The animal reacted with displeasure.

  “Do not make light of my courtesies, child. Countless others only dream of experiencing my attentions in the slightest. You – I fear – are the exception.”

  Hardly listening to the animal Dmitri plowed through the brush. How was it possible that no one had ever managed to trap this nuisance? With all the noise it made how did it not attract every wolfen within the territory?

  “Your brother had been right to protect you. But I was not a threat to you. Nor to him. My curiosity drew me out, and thus into the fray. You have my deepest apologies for that error, stripling.”

  “Keep your apologies,” snapped the boy as he picked up the pace. If the monster insisted on following him, well, he would just deliver it to his lackluster stalkers. Let them deal with this devil in his stead.

  “Had not my brother told me of your calling then I would most likely never have crossed paths with you, Dmitri Kovtun. Or rather, not until much later in life. It was…”

  “You have a brother?” Dmitri asked in disbelief. There were two of these monsters out there in the world? While he was not so curious as to stop and listen he did prefer the stag be distracted as he led it toward town.

  “Eh? Yes, certainly.” The Stag replied as it was indeed distracted by the rocks underfoot as they crossed a small stream. “He is Destiny. And as such he foolishly informed me of your… future. The fool knows that I am a curious sort.”

  “Wait, wait,” Dmitri suddenly spun on the beast. It slipped on the rounded stones underfoot before pausing alongside the boy. “Your brother is Destiny?”

  “Why, yes indeed.”

  “And he is a donkey?”

  “What? No,” stammered the stag angrily. “Of course he is not a donkey.”

  “Oh. I was simply wondering, because you are such an ass.”

  Laughing like the child he was Dmitri sped off into the wood leaving the stag to fume on its lonesome. Finally he had incensed the beast and he was proud of his work. Stupid animal.

  Ducking low beneath a series of toppled saplings he circled back toward town, and his pursuers. It was not long before he heard the great stag bulling its own path after him. Dmitri smiled. His plan was working.

  Rushing now the boy bolted between trees and trudged through snow. Soon they would be near enough to town that someone other than him might spot the beast. Then, once and for all, the people would know the truth that he was not a liar. The Gol
den Stag did exist. And then this curse could be removed from his shoulders.

  Intent on only revealing the truth about the stag Dmitri failed to watch where he stepped. Slipping on a moss covered log he stumbled into a gulley. Bouncing to a halt he sucked in a harsh breath. Along the opposite wall, so close he could almost feel them, were stakes. Sharp pointed stakes. As if this were a…

  Realizing that he had inadvertently stumbled into a trap of some sort Dmitri froze. How had this gone unnoticed?

  Blasting himself for his clumsiness the boy knew he must get out and soon. If the timbers stacked along the steep hillside were to fall then he would be crushed alive. Or impaled. But the opposite end was cluttered with saplings. Triggers to cause the trap to spring?

  Unsure what to do the youngster spun about and immediately lodged his ankle in a crevice between two logs. There was a crack and a rush of great pain. With his ankle twisted unnaturally to one side his leg gave way beneath the pressure.

  Screaming out in agony Dmitri fell, clutching for a hand hold, and then felt the wall of logs tremble. Something broke behind him. There was a rumble and the earth beginning to give.

  Chunks of bark skittered down into the gulley followed by a heady groan. More snapping wood and then the entire hillside of logs was rolling toward him. Gravity had taken charge.

  He was doomed.

  As the sight of the cascading logs burned into his vision Dmitri knew beyond a doubt that he was dead. All hope was lost.

  With his ankle likely broken he would never have a chance of escaping the trap in time.

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