by Matt Wilk
“I see. I see.”
“What do you see?”
“Nothing yet, just a glimpse. Tell me, how do you train? Every morning, you...”
“I run the serpentine.”
“Is that all you do, run up and down?”
“Well, it’s a slightly more complex regimen.”
“Details! Please!”
“The route is one hundred ninety one paces from bottom to top. I run it, then I go backwards, then on my arse like a crab, then on all fours like a bear.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. One hundred times, each. Then, I can have two eggs.”
“What?”
“You’re not impressed? This armor is heavy you know?”
I slid the gauntlet off my bad arm and tossed it to Jyetta. He underestimated the weight and it dropped his arm to full extension before landing on the floor with a thud.
“Impressive.”
“I barely feel it because of the hilt.”
“All that potential, and none of the respect.”
“Respect must be earned.”
“True. Perhaps you shouldn’t try so hard.”
“Oh, and you know how to gain the respect of Major Swiftblade?”
He rolled his eyes around as if I had asked him which way was down.
“That riddle is child’s play, my boy. How does one gain the respect of a Monster Hunter?”
He tossed the gauntlet back to me with a grunt and I jabbed out with a knife hand to slide it back in place. The cast had melted enough to allow for it, but, the still broken bone punished me with a great deal of pain for showing off.
“You must hunt the monster, of course.”
The gauntlet added its weight to my hand just in time to help slap my own face in disbelief.
“Of course! How did I not see it before?”
The mercenaries stomped on the cart after the noise. Their insults and laughter echoed through the tunnel.
“So, how will you do it?”
“First, it is most important to choose your foe. There is a man eater in the valley, a black lion with no tail.”
“A long tooth? Are you mad? At least the Opa only come to your hip.”
I sighed at him for breaking my focus. My first thought was to wish Kane had witnessed Jyetta’s testimony first hand, so all the Lantos could see that the erroneous rumors had originated elsewhere. Without correcting him, I continued.
“Do you know of Nanu the Tall Black?”
“A Nubian? Perhaps. Does he live in Embraun?”
“Ugh, he’s a hero from long ago. On one of his many adventures, he was attacked by a lion like no other. A man eater with blood in his eyes and foam in his mouth.”
“Did he kill it with his bare hands?”
“No, then the story would end with no moral. He escaped the beast several times before finally cutting off its tail.”
“What does that matter? I have no tail.”
“Yes, but for a cat, the tail is the key to their balance. So, Nanu devises a trap with the few materials at hand. He rips the branches from a tree and jams them in the ground for spikes. With all the leaves, he covers them. He rolls a massive boulder onto his back and climbs the open stump. Then he waits for the beast to return.”
“Then he smashes the beast with the rock?”
“No, then he goes to sleep.”
“What?”
“The rock is so he can get down, it is to smash the remaining spikes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The lion has too much pride. He acts as though he still has his tail.”
“And, thinking he can make the jump, lands on a pile of spikes. That is an important lesson for a young man to learn.”
“Nanu had many adventures in the jungle, and Grandfather knew of them all. He was quite the learned man.”
“I’m told mine was as well.”
“Jyetta, he died with honor. He fought for us all.”
I put my hand on his to make him feel better. His grin revealed that it was a trick.
“I know.”
“Oh, you are such a freak.”
“I know. Give me a hug- this is your stop.”
The steed was slowing. After a moment, the mercs began stomping again.
“Thank you, Jyetta. Good luck in Hi-yadora.”
“Good luck with your monster. I will return after the blood moon.”
“No.”
The new Ambassador took my comment for a joke and opened the door with a smile. I forced myself to show him one back, and I bowed to their party. Jyetta was quick to close the door against the cold wind. He waved from behind the glass and blew me kisses as the wagon turned the bend and up the road. The blood moon returning would be the truest measure of my fortitude. I decided that the monster would not stand a chance against the Nanu trap, and there would be no need to heal. However, not even Jyetta’s verbal confirmation had the power to untie the knot in my stomach. And then I remembered, I had not packed any food.
“Hurry up!”
My fists rose to block my face while I spun- expecting a fight.
“I said let’s go, ladies! By two’s.”
The Lokah were approaching and something told me to hide. It wasn’t until their party breached the tree line that I realized their training sergeants were told to be just as obnoxious as ours. Few of the soldiers were women, however, they were not grouped together. The two person groups each carried two canoes over their heads, which had quite obviously been hand carved earlier in the training cycle. They lined up on the beach, running in place and preparing their minds. Wearing only a torso belt of handmade throwing axes and thin seal skin underwear, they would dare to brave the icy waters. My jaw was slack in awe, especially when the final group arrived.
Their training sergeant was riding atop the last pair of canoes. He was a little Lokah, with a short bow, and a shorter temper. My laughter caught his attention, so he proved his status as a warrior by sending an arrow my way. The tiny thing landed in a tree several feet in front of the rock I used for cover. It was only a warning shot. I spun and parted my hair to reveal the hilt and he curled his little finger the way Bratley did when calling me to his side.
“Get on the ground, grey skin. You leave this garbage on my land and then dare to laugh at me?”
“I’m sorry sir.”
“Not yet. But you will be soon boy. Ro-hast!”
The warriors returned his call in unison. Much like the Chron, it also translated most closely to ‘revenge.’ They began yelling it at random as they made their way across the stones barefoot, and especially when they hit the water. I dared to laugh again, just in time for their training sergeant to land on my back shell. Dirty sand filled my mouth. He grabbed a fist full of my hair and kicked me forward.
“That’s it, slow and steady turtle. Just like that.”
The soldiers had begun the next phase of the exercise. They hopped into one of the canoes and used the other for cover. They rowed west with a single oar each, racing towards the glacier- as if they could reach it in any less than a whole day by steed. Then the little man on my back laid across the shell and fired arrows into them.
“Turn under cover. Turn!”
The shield canoe dropped over top of them as they ducked to roll away from the direction of fire. Once they popped back up, they rowed east towards the rock face. I was kicked into a turn as well, and that’s when I saw the mess. The roadblock had been pushed off the cliffside road at the bend where the rest of the iron spikes had been. The glaciers had drawn in enough water that the winter shoreline revealed the whole lot of them. Alone, the best Major Swiftblade could do was push the carts into the tree line. Thankfully, he had not waited to remove the bodies and I still had yet to be forced to burn anyone. I did not even know where the Drakkah Monument was hidden in our area, and I was glad for that.
“Turtle, stop.”
The little Lokah used my head as a step down and blew on a whistle that was lo
ud as a bird.
“Fetch my arrow. Now!”
“Sir, yes sir.”
I ran to retrieve his arrow and noticed that it too was handmade. Besides the seal skin uniform, the training sergeant was leading by example, proving that he had earned his status. The soldiers had made their way inland and their female corporal was collecting the arrows.
“Whenever we cross paths with these Commandoes, what do you see?”
“Not much sir.”
“More like smell, sir.”
“Look at the garbage they leave on our lands!”
“The pirates made this mess sir. They do whatever the Swillians pay them to do.”
“Get back down- turtle boy.”
A few of them giggled. With an angry look from the little sergeant, the corporal made them all lay down on the cold wet stones. I hid my face best I could, smiling from their collective groan.
“Is it not disrespectful enough that they pay us to keep that crumbling sculpture from returning to the earth? We do not benefit from the worship of their Drakkah. Think- for once in your lives. When was the last time the Swillian Empire dared an attack on the shores of Hi-yadora?”
“Sir, they would not dare sir!”
“Your leaders say, do not get involved. I say, they have already brought war on the Lokah. What say you?”
“Ro-hast! Ro-hast! Ro-hast!”
“Sir, I will clean up all of this. I swear it.”
“Do you see how quickly fear turns to respect? The Swillians will learn to fear my Seals! Now, get back in the water and prepare for glory!”
The corporal rallied them up and away. Somehow, none of them were shivering nearly as bad as I was. The little sergeant picked up my chin to scream right at my face.
“Do you hear me Kane? I see you flashing about in there. Your Commandoes are nothing. My Seals will destroy the Swillian fleet and free the Nepori shores before your first troops ever arrive.”
He looked all around my eyes as though they had a message written just inside. Then my eyes flashed so bright he retracted in fear. I scoffed at his reaction.
“And half of them do not even wear your worthless Drakkah.”
He kicked my left arm with his boot. Indeed, there was no metal barrel protecting me, and so, his kick broke the bone. I landed on my face screaming into the dirt. I decided it was a test, quickly jumping to my feet and gritting my teeth against the pain. I would have been able to maintain control, however, his shrill cackle drove me wild.
“You want to see power? You stupid little man. I will show my power!”
I grunted and tensed up, and the red shadow bled out from his laughing, gaping mouth. Half of my body was slack until I threw out my arm. The bone snapped into place loudly as I punched at his face- stopping short by the width of a hair. The pain fed the red shadow and it covered everything I could see. I roared at him and he scrambled to set an arrow in his bow. But then I closed my mouth, and breathed in deep and long through my nose. I let the air out all at once and repeated the cycle, sitting down and pulling my legs into the Shaman position. The corporal stopped running back to shore and yelled for the Seals to get back to their training. The sergeant did not look at them, nor even at me. His eyes searched the tree line. He shot his arrow into the canopy and it spooked the phoenix that had been hiding just a few feet away.
“I’m still not impressed. Do you hear me Kane? I am not impressed.”
The massive bird floated around us lightly. Then it shook its tongue out like a goat and flapped its way into the grey sky. The little sergeant sucked his teeth at the bird, spit on the ground before me, and trotted off west. The red shadow followed the scarlet phoenix in shrinking down to naught but a dot in the sky.
“Thank you sir. Good luck on your Ro-hast!”
Cleaning up the beach was not easy, even with both arms. I dug up the spikes with a smile, singing at the joy of having gained control of my demon. I piled them up neatly in the cart left behind by Shale’s mercenaries. The boxed wagon, however, had filled with overgrowth. Major Swiftblade had taken Slip’s body to be returned to ash but the Ambassador’s contents remained. I managed to salvage the two rear wheels and found some loose string. The wood was crushed and the pillows had become a home for the bugs. Somehow, a single chest had survived the attack. Poor Slip. Whether or not he knew he only had the dishes, he had died curled around the chest. His blood stained the floor around the bottom of the chest and his soul could rest easy knowing he had indeed protected his prize. Major Swiftblade had not missed a single arrow, but did not bother to retrieve the lord’s fine dishes. Silver spoons and gold lace did not interest him one bit.
My new cart was full when I had finished salvaging every piece I could. The rest, I stuffed into the Ambassador’s old cart, and pulled it onto the rocks. The training sergeant was far off in the distance but I decided to push the thing onto the road just to keep him placated. Then I burned it all. The smell of blood brought the crows out of hiding. Thankfully, there were no bats. The sun was nearly set when enough of the boxed wagon had burned away to safely leave. Without a lighting globe, I was forced to carry several splinters of wood topped with pillow covers as torches. I swear I heard the Lokah laughing. Regardless, I laughed as well, at the sight I must have portrayed. Only a savage barbarian would put loot in a cart he had to push, and carry an open fire torch into a perfectly safe tunnel to ward off the spooky darkness. It was a long walk. I stopped many times and regretted having not first gathered food or water. Even the torches burned out before I hit the end of the tunnel. Either Jyetta was wrong about the blood moon, or I had missed it completely, because the bright light of the full moon carried me to the finish.
I did not have the strength to push the thing up to the stable. I could not even carry myself to bed. I crawled onto the cart and tucked under my shell. Over tired and under fed, I still went to sleep quickly and smiling. I had everything I would need for the Nanu Trap, and I had even learned to control the red shadow. That night, I dreamt of a glorious lion pelt and the honor of having my very own sword.
I was in such a good mood the next morning that I did not exercise. I stretched and ate breakfast. Major Swiftblade was already gone. The blood moon had already passed. The hens were nesting happily with their roosters. I even took the time to pray to the allFather and to Mother Moon for granting me the strength to defeat my demon. Then I cleaned off everything.
Laid out in a row, the identical spikes proved to be wooden with only small iron tips. The remnants of the road block were unevenly salvaged from the whole, so I set them aside. The cart I scrubbed first, mixing fertilizer from the blue clucks with the soap to lift out the blood stain. The chest I cleaned next, and they both sat out in the sun to dry. The ground was almost frozen, making a much longer process of my dig for clay. Finally, I had enough to coat my entire shell in a thick layer. Before it could dry, I stamped it with the uneven spike collection.
“If that lion makes the jump, this might actually be worse.”
Even The Lady Dooza was impressed.
“I have seen a beaver with spikes, and even a fish with spikes. But, a turtle with spikes, now I have seen everything.”
The blood ridden waste water drained down into the clay while I rolled the extra cart wheels into the stables. Once the cart itself had been stowed, I covered the ditch and took a nap.
“Alright, little one, time to get up. Now, don’t you forget.”
“Yes ma’am- you warned me ahead of time.”
“Don’t play stupid, boy. When your little trick fails, you had better not come running to me for healing.”
“You would not have helped before.”
“This time, you are aware. Is that not what you seek- the truth?”
“What truth?”
“Are you a coward?”
“No?”
“Are you asking or telling? Hush- I do not care.”
“I am no coward! I will show you, wise Shaman. You will see.”
“I have heard those words before.”
Dooza floated back up the serpentine, giggling at her own jokes. Unfortunately, she was right. I had said those exact words to her before the lion ever moved in to our valley. I began second guessing my entire plan, and nearly had a panic attack. Though the air was still windy and cold, I stripped to feel the sunlight all over. Every time I sat in the Shaman position I remembered how much strength I had summoned to control the red shadow and, eventually, decided further preparations were necessary.
None of the spikes dropped off my shell when I slid it on my back. I even jumped and stomped just to be sure. I grabbed a long pike in each hand and set out into the grassland. With the last light of day, I scouted for the best areas and any sign of the beast with no tail. Of course, he had left absolutely none behind. Without any tracks, I was left with discounting areas in which I knew he would not be willing to hunt.
Out in the open would be a mistake for both of us. The tree line was ever more dangerous due to the Opa. I happened on a bear’s territory and was grateful that he had outlined the perimeter by digging his claws into several trees. I immediately gave up on any area with steed droppings. Neither one of us wanted to face those giant hooves again. I ended up siting on a gathering of rocks and losing my confidence with the day light. The eagles screeched in horror at the sight of me near their food source, and that’s when the idea struck me.
“What is their problem? Huh? Oh my- burrowing rats! Hmm, what do cats like to eat most of all? Come here. I got you, no wait. No! Oh, the irony!”
The eagles were living off of a constant supply of long whistling rats that had burrowed tunnels into their grassy field. Trying to catch one was a mistake, as I only succeeded in tripping over several holes and landing flat on my back. There I was, a turtle on his back, which could not flip his self over. I laughed and was happy to know that the spikes held fast to the ground. It took me so long to stop laughing at the irony that a few of the rats poked their heads out. They bobbed their little heads, and mimicked me with a low whistle. More than a few ran out to sniff my hair. I jumped up before they could bite me, but not before they could untie the strings in my hair and steal them back underground.