by R W Foster
I roared, laughing. “You’ll pay for that!”
Keeper Dearbhaile giggled, and swam out of my reach. I waited until she surfaced. While she still had her back to me, I sunk under the water and arrowed right at her, intending to surface without a sound and ambush her from behind.
She must have cast a spell of telepathy because when I surfaced, she faced me and slapped both hands at the water’s surface, splashing me once more. She dove beneath the water again and came up some distance away behind me. I turned and looked at her.
“Come and get me, Carter.” She almost sang the words.
“No, I think I’d rather you come for me.”
“Are ye certain?”
“I am.”
Keeper Dearbhaile held her arms out beside her, her hands appeared to be grasping something unseen. The water boiled and rose five feet from the surface. She curved her arms up to her shoulders, and rotated her hands in my direction; the water followed her every movement. I figured out what she intended a moment too late. Her arms shot out toward me and the water rocketed at my face.
“No!” I shouted, right as about twenty liters of water hit me as if from a fire hose. The deluge ended in less than a second. I blew water from my mouth like a horse. “I surrender!”
Angriz’ voice boomed over us like a peal of thunder, startling me. “LOOK OUT BELOW!!!”
A split second later another torrent hit me as he cannon balled into the pool. He turned to Keeper Dearbhaile as soon as he surfaced and using his big hands, sent one, two and three waves at her. She had a chance to let out a squeak before they all hit.
“All right!” I crowed. “Two on one!”
I swam up beside Angriz and prepared to help bombard Keeper Dearbhaile. Angriz cut his big right hand down and across his body, hitting me with a four foot wave.
“No way!” He said with a laugh. “Everyone for themselves!”
2
Later, we were in a line, scrubbing each other’s backs with a soapy type of sand. Angriz sat on a rock, Keeper Dearbhaile stood behind him, scrubbing his huge, muscular scaled back, and I stood behind her, massaging hers.
With mirth still in my voice, I said, “So what made you decide to join us, Angriz?”
“Due to the amount noise you two made, I approached to investigate. When I overheard the hilarity, I decided to join in,” he said. “No telling when we may ever have another lighthearted interlude.”
“Well, I be glad ye did, Sir Angriz,” Keeper Dearbhaile said.
“Butt kisser,” I whispered to her, earning myself an elbow to the gut and causing me to laugh. Louder, I said, “Yes, grand…until you decided to ambush me you… you… person, you!”
“Ouch,” Angriz said, “That stings.” The tone of voice was desiccating, almost.
I stopped washing her back, stooped, grabbed a handful of mud and chucked it at his head where it splattered in a beautiful mess. Angriz shot to his feet with a roar, and though I made a valiant effort to run, he swept me into his arms and made ready to launch me into the water. The world slowed and I saw myself flying through the air and smashing my head against a large submerged rock. Blood spread in the water and I sank, Keeper Dearbhaile screaming in grief as Angriz splashed out to me.
The world slammed back to normal speed. Angriz drew back and, as he launched me outwards, I pushed off him with my legs. The push caused me to flip through the air, and I turned the somersault into a graceful swan dive. I surfaced to cheers and applause. I missed the deadly rock by mere centimeters.
3
Keeper Dearbhaile and I lay next to each other in our bedrolls near the fire, conversing in low voices. Angriz was somewhere in the darkness standing guard. I got the second watch and she the third.
“What I do nae understand,” she said, “is why did ye react that way when I began tae disrobe?”
“Where I am from, that isn’t considered proper. We are taught we have sexual freedom, yet at the same time, the unclothed body is taboo. Males and females don’t bathe together unless they are young or else in a relationship.”
“How strange. We elven be taught our bodies are meant tae be enjoyed. Elven o’ all ages and sexes bathe together as a bonding ritual, almost. Our bodies are nae taboo.”
“Why did you blush at the sight of my nude body yesterday?”
“Um,” she hesitated. “Yers be the first human body I’ve ever seen and I… wanted tae… touch ye.”
“Wait a minute, I thought Elven are taught your bodies are meant to be enjoyed?”
“I’ve naevair been with a man.”
I laughed and changed the subject. “So, how old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I celebrated me third century a month ago.”
“Wow. I must seem like a fumbling infant, stumbling along, trying to walk, huh?”
She smiled. “Nae. Ye understand, as humans mark time, I be old indeed. As we mark time, though, I have just become an adolescent.”
“Wow. Are Elven immortal then?”
“Nae, only long lived.”
“How long does the average Elven live?”
“About eight hundred years. The occasional Elven celebrates their thousandth birthday, but only the most powerful do.”
I stared, mouth agape.
4
Near dawn, I sensed Angriz sitting up.
“Something isn’t right,” he whispered.
I heard a strange whistling as soon as the words left his lips. The sound turned into an explosion which lit the predawn darkness. Our eyes, on instinct, flicked to the light; something telling me to keep one eye closed. In the burst of bright light, the bodies of orcs flew through the air, thrown by the force of the explosion. The light faded and I opened my eye. I discovered I still had my night vision. We surged to our feet as a horde of orcs and goblins swarmed our camp. Angriz threw me a sword. Once again, the world slowed in the familiar way and was becoming welcome in a hurry.
The longsword did a slow pin-wheel, rotating twice before I perceived myself catch the weapon in my right hand. I spun with the momentum, slap my left hand to the hilt and cut a goblin down. Next, I reversed the blade and stabbed a goblin that leaped for my back.
The world returned to normal and I allowed my body to take over. I slipped through the movements I had already witnessed myself doing. I felt odd, having knowledge of what I was going to do an instant before I did. I know if I didn’t have this insight, I wouldn’t have survived as long as I did in the battle.
I became surrounded by four muscular blue skinned orcs. Their appearance was reminiscent of a cross between a pig and a Neanderthal: heavy-boned, broad sloped forehead; small beady eyes, set deep in their sockets; small mouths with curved, sharp tusks; out thrust nose with flat tip and the nostrils pointed forward; and flat ears. Bristly black hairs covered their faces. They wore black, metal studded leather armor. This armor, and the way they had me surrounded: one to my front, back, left and right, marked these orcs as elite warriors. The others got into each other’s way. This group showed teamwork.
The world slowed once more. Again, their initial attacks played in my mind: the one at my front stabbed at my throat, the one at my back, at my spine between my kidneys, the one at my right would chop at my stomach and the one on my left, at the top of my head. The world returned to normal, and I exploded into action.
I tossed my sword from my right hand to my left, ducked the chops and, at the same time, twisted my body to my right, avoiding the stabs. I thrust my sword deep into the chest of the orc in front of me. While the remaining three recovered from their failed assault, I withdrew my blade from the chest of the first and rose upright. The world slowed yet again.
The three moved to a triangle formation and thrust their blades at me simultaneously. I ducked and killed the one on my right. The world snapped back to normal again and the orcs shifted to the position I'd foreseen. I had an orc to my back and two in front of me about an arm's length apart. When their arms drew back for t
he thrust, I readied myself by relaxing every muscle in my body. Their arms surged forward and I dropped to a crouch. As I did, I thrust my own sword into the stomach of the orc to my right. Blood, hot and greasy, ran down the blade. I pulled the weapon from the body of my former attacker and turned to meet further attacks.
None were forth coming. Angriz blitzed into the remaining orcs and cut them to pieces. I stood panting, relieved the battle was over at last. I should have known better.
5
“Where's Keeper Dearbhaile?” I asked Angriz, looking around, frantic.
“I do not know, Carter. Last I knew, she fought on the other side of camp, flinging orcs with her spells.”
I called her name as we jogged to the other side of our battle decimated camp. Here and there, fires burned. 'Angriz must have used his breath weapon a few times.' I spotted jagged stumps of trees, splinters and chunks of wood lay strewn over the ground. Ash fluttered through the smoky air. I also spotted pieces of orc limned in an odd orange-green glow. Bright red blood was splashed everywhere. An orc had been merged with a half-buried boulder and my gorge rose. I swallowed hard and fast. Now wasn't the time to be puking. I couldn't find Keeper Dearbhaile anywhere. I took a deep breath, ready to bellow her name when something from my nightmares stepped from the shadows of the trees. My lungs, which had been filled with air for my shout, deflated.
The thing was a large, powerful looking humanoid, much bigger than Angriz, with black, scaled skin, sharp looking claws and fangs, a pair of forward-growing horns above its temples and short horns growing upward from its forehead. Large red eyes glowed. The scent of sulfur and hot tar surrounded the monster. The creature had Keeper Dearbhaile's limp body by the back of her neck in one massive hand and tossed her at us. She hit the ground about a yard away and rolled like a ragdoll until she came to rest at my feet.
I knelt and checked her throat for a pulse. I found one, but it was weak and thready. Anger such as I've never experienced before surged through my body like a river of lava. I gripped my sword in both hands so tight my knuckles made popping sounds. I started with lethal intent towards the monster that harmed my friend. I got lifted in the air by the back of my deer skin shirt and held with ease.
“Carter, stay out of this,” Angriz said in the coldest voice I'd ever heard from him.
Goose bumps rippled up my arms. As he swung me behind him and released me, the creature spoke.
“Angriz, been a long time.” The being possessed a gravelly, yet honeyed voice.
“Indeed it has, Belial.”
I gasped at the name. In the computer game of BattleHammer, it was legendary. Belial is the half-demon son of Zatanna, the Lich Queen of Amcorath, and Lucien, the Demon King. In order to fight him in the game, you needed nineteen legendary artifacts, and at least a party of twenty-five. The party makeup had to consist of fifteen dedicated healers, six tanks to distract his attacks, and four damage dealers. Even with this ideal party, you still had an hour long fight on your hands. At least, that was the rumor on the message boards. Something told me he was worse in the Realm.
“What do you want?” Angriz asked in a soft voice.
I blanched, my heart racing a kilometer a minute, when Belial pointed at me. “Him.”
“You may not have him,” Angriz said.
I almost collapsed in relief.
“I'm afraid you have no say in the matter,” a low, feminine voice said.
Angriz and I both looked to where the voice came from. A young human woman stepped from the tree line. She stood around 172.72 cm and athletic-looking. Curly brown hair that draped over her shoulders and dark brown eyes crinkled with humor with a heart shaped face and a peaches-and-cream complexion. Like me, she was dressed in an outfit of deerskin.
“You will be busy with me, I'm afraid,” she continued. Looking to Belial, she said, “Take him.” From the jerk of her head, I knew she meant me.
“Looks like we'll have to dance another time,” Belial said with a smile.
“I don't think so,” Angriz said, his voice like ice.
He swung his massive sword at the half-demon's head and the girl sprang into action. She took a single step forward and leaped into the air. She hit Angriz in the chest, knees first, and knocked him back. She landed cat-like, on her feet. She jumped up and struck him in the center of his forehead with her elbow, causing him to drop his sword.
The half-dragon shook his head as he staggered for a brief moment. Angriz growled and swung his beefy right hand at her head. She blocked his attack by slamming both her up-raised forearms into his, and countered with her left elbow punching him in the sternum. He staggered back again, roared, and moved to attack once more. The girl took a running step at Angriz, leaped into the air, stepped on his hip with her left foot and slammed him in the face with her right knee. She rebounded off, once more landing on her feet like a cat, and he stumbled backward. This time, she raced forward and leaped onto his shoulders, wrapping her right leg around his neck so that she spun around to sit on his shoulders. She rained elbow strikes down on his unprotected head. Blood flowed and he reached for her.
“You do realize you left your back wide open, don't you, Carter Blake?” Belial asked, reminding me of his presence.
I whipped around to face him, my sword coming up in a defensive posture. I was chagrined at having forgotten my immediate adversary. Belial leaned against a tree, watching me watch Angriz and his opponent. His left ankle was crossed over his right. He held his hands crossed at the wrist the other way, right over left. Held in his right hand in a light grip, its point in the dirt, was a longsword of the purest white I'd ever seen. He smiled at me.
“Relax. I was just messing with you,” he said.
I decided to repeat Angriz' question from earlier: “What do you want?”
The half-demon laughed. “Why, to kill you, of course.”
“What for?”
“A couple of reasons, to be honest. Number one, you killed my gaunt. The poor thing was only looking for some food, Carter Blake.”
“Your what?!” I said.
“The creature you killed earlier by crushing its skull.”
“Your monster wanted to eat me,” I said with some heat.
“Oh,” he said, sounding a bit surprised. “Regardless, he was mine and you should have asked permission before you killed him.”
“What the hell?” I said, incredulous. “First, I was defending myself. Second, I didn't know he belonged to you. I mean, he didn’t have a collar and tag, nor did he have a summoning ritual, so how could I have asked permission to kill the blasted thing?”
Belial nodded his head. “Okay, Carter Blake, fair point.”
I shook mine in disgust. “What was the second reason?”
“Oh, that is the best one of all.”
I waited, eyebrows raised.
“I'm being paid to.”
“What?!”
“Oh, yes. Lord Drago has promised me a sacrifice of one thousand half-elves for your head, Carter Blake.”
“Will you stop saying my full name like that? Are you afraid you might forget it, or something?”
The half-demon only winked. Behind me, Angriz roared, the young lady said, “Oh, shit!” and then a crackling crash of a tree falling. Belial straightened and hefted his sword.
Pointing the blade at me, he asked, “Are you ready to die?”
Trying to project as much confidence as Angriz would, I said without inflection, “Not today.”
He lunged forward and we crossed blades a couple of times. While keeping his blade in contact with my own, he slid his sword up and down mine. He lunged, swiping his sword at me, and taking a couple of steps forward as he did so. I was able to parry all four of his swipes, backing up as I did so. Belial leered at me.
I lunged, swiping my sword at him while stepping forward. He retreated, deflecting my attacks with ease and a smirk. Hoping to piss him off, to throw off his rhythm, I sneered at him. He laughed and attacked again. We fenced
like this for about thirty seconds.
“You're not bad, I'll give you that, Carter Blake,” he said locking swords with me again. “But how is your footwork? If I step like so…” He circled to my right and I was once more able to parry his attacks. “Good,” he said. “And now…” He stepped to his right, swinging his blade as he did so. I was able to parry his strikes. I realized Belial was toying with me. Some distance to my left, Angriz groaned, then came a thud.
“Angriz is down, Carter Blake,” the half-demon taunted. “Your turn.”
He drew his sword back and the world slowed all around me. Belial's massive muscles were bunched, ready to unleash the coiled energy pent within. And I understood how to win.
The world snapped back to normal speed and I burst into motion, moving with speed born of desperation. His sword slashed on a diagonal from his right to his left. It would have cleaved me in two, but I took a long and quick step to my right and twisted my body to my left as I brought my sword across the back of his neck. The step, twist of my body and the strength I put into my strike served to remove his head from his body.
As his cranium flew through the air, Belial spoke, “We are not finished, Carter Blake. We will meet again, mark my words.”
Then, his body parts exploded into shadowy bat-like things and vanished. I stood, panting with exertion and left over fright. My mouth was full of the sour metallic taste of spent adrenaline. My muscles twitched and quivered. I knew I escaped that fight by the skin of my teeth and somehow unharmed.
6
I swiveled my head around, but couldn't find the young woman that had attacked Angriz. After a few minutes of searching, I turned to tend to my friends. I went to our packs and pulled out strips of cloth, thread, a couple needles. They were things that would help me perform first aid on them. I put some of the items in the clean dinner cauldron with boiling water. I moved to Angriz and bandaged his wounds. He had some cuts and missing scales from the girl’s knee and elbow strikes, but it didn’t take too long to tend to.