Still, I was not fully convinced that this situation was out of control. Maybe if I tried to demonstrate a lack of aggression they would leave me alone and let me lead the two humans safely away from their camp without conflict. I was not trained in the art of fencing and had little confidence that I could handle ten armed man-beasts even if they were smaller than me. The largest one stood about five-feet, six inches tall. I was encouraged by the lack of musculature in their limbs, at least compared to mine. But still, ten to one were odds I did not want to test. Each passing moment the chances of getting myself and the other humans safely away seemed less likely.
And there was no way I was going to abandon the two people being held prisoner.
My course of action was ultimately decided for me when the closest beast began to sprint forward while raising a hammer. I tried to speak to him, to assure him I meant no harm. Before the words could escape me he lunged, snarling like a dog and swinging the hammer at my head. I swiveled my hips catching the hammer strike on my shield. Though certainly significant, the impact was nothing like what I expected it to be. The shock was well-absorbed by the shield and my forearm with no pain at all. My attacker seemed momentarily mystified by the lack of effect his strike had caused. He tried again and again, leaping forward, trying unsuccessfully to breach my defense. At this time I was still clinging to the belief that I might just be able to defuse this whole thing. Maybe by showing him and his friends that I was not returning his aggression they would understand I was not a threat. I was relieved to notice that he was not as quick as one would expect. Avoiding his blows or catching them with the shield was not that difficult. But I saw the others moving into position to encircle me and they wouldn’t have to be all that fast or even strong to simply overwhelm me with numbers. I knew I had to change my position to one more advantageous to me.
When my initial attacker lunged forward to strike again I jumped forward rather than backing up as I had been. My action caught him off guard and I was able to take advantage of his being off balance. I shifted my shoulders, moving my shield to the side and swinging the butt of my spear into his ribcage. His cry of pain surprised me a bit because I didn’t think I had struck him all that hard. But he dropped to the ground and rolled, clutching his side. That was when all of the remaining beast-men charged.
In my head I heard an actual word explode in my consciousness: “Fight!”
I didn’t know if I was being guided by panic, instinct or Tinker’s subconscious instructions but upon hearing that word in my head all doubt about what needed to be done vanished. I drew back my spear and threw it as hard as I could at the next-nearest man-beast. The distance was still such that he should have been able to leap out of the way. As it was he raised a small shield in an attempt to deflect it. Instead the sharp metal blade of the weapon penetrated through the shield and skewered the beast behind it. He dropped immediately screaming in agony. I was sickened by the fact that I had killed what resembled another person but I had no time to dwell on it.
His companions showed no reaction to their felled comrade and continued their stalking of me. It was now obvious that they intended to either kill me or add me to their collection of prisoners.
I reached up and behind my shoulder and felt the comforting hilt of the sword. It fairly leapt into my hand just as one of the things reached me. I parried a slash by a battle axe with the sword and pivoted to push him away with the shield. As I did the wicked knife blade that was attached to the front edge of the shield caught him in the throat. Blood sprayed in every direction including into my face. This attacker fell back but was replaced by two more both with short stabbing swords. I had no time to wipe the blood from my eyes but I gained some distance by swinging at their heads with my own sword. They had apparently now gained some respect for my abilities and recoiled from my attack.
I took advantage of the brief respite to sprint away to a nearby low hill. Though it was small, holding the high ground was something I instinctively sought. The remaining beasts would now have at least some disadvantage when attacking my position. The delay in action allowed me time to clear my eyes but sweat was now dripping down from my brow from exertion.
The first of my antagonists was now recovered from his swat with my spear butt and he now limped over to join his band. They were communicating with each other with shouts and grunts. It didn’t require a battlefield genius to understand what they were saying. They had been surprised by my abilities at first and lost two men because of it. They now moved more slowly and with much more respect. As they approached my hill I was able to take a brief glance at Tinker. She had moved from her spot behind the lean-to and was dragging something that could have been a dagger over toward the two captured humans. I could spare no more time to watch her.
The group of eight remaining man-beasts had now reached my hill and had spread out around it. I positioned my shield to cover most of my torso and rested my sword on top of it. Though they had more swords mine was much heavier. Its length would give me twice the reach that they had and the heft of the weapon would add power to my slashes. However, I still had no illusion that I was going to survive this day. There were simply too many of them for me and I had no experience in this type of combat. I was fortunate to have a small tree at my back which would keep them from mounting a direct rear assault.
It appeared that my attackers had arranged themselves into an order of attack that suited them. They were now slowly edging up the little rise toward me. From my position I could see their lips drawn into disconcerting semblances of smiles. I noted they all had canine teeth which were longer and sharper than those of humans. I was waiting for the inevitable charge when I again heard the word “Fight” in my head. Like a light coming on it occurred that I was doing exactly the wrong thing. By waiting for the attack I was taking away my advantages of greater strength and speed and allowing them to execute their plan of attack. Though I was loath to surrender my high ground I suddenly burst out of my defensive position and attacked the two on my left side. My move caught them off balance and I was able to take them both, one with a forehand sword slash and the other with a returning backhand. The damage from my attack was vivid and a little sickening, too. The first victim caught my blade across the shoulder near the neck. It penetrated diagonally a foot into his body, probably carving directly through his heart (assuming they were constructed similarly to us). The other was able to land a shallow stab to my side though it was a feeble attempt and I felt no pain. He lost the arm that he’d used for the blow and fell screaming in pain. The sight made me want to throw up but I simply had no time.
I let my momentum propel me farther down the hill and turned just in time to catch another hammer attack on my shield. This time I responded with a direct overhand cut, putting all of the strength I could muster into the move. The blade struck my adversary on the crown of his unprotected head and continued downward until it lodged in his sternum. He was dead before he dropped. But my sword was now stuck fast within the body and I could not immediately extricate it. The other five were recovering from the shock and confusion of my attack and were now almost upon me. With no other options I abandoned the sword, kicked the closest attacker in the gut and yanked my mace free.
Seeing me with no sword emboldened the rest of the pack but I could not understand why they were pressing their attack. Half of them were now dead or dying yet they still persisted. An intelligent creature would have fled by now. Not these things. The largest one, the only one wearing a vest and carrying two swords, snarled at the one closest to me. With a shout he obeyed his commander and rushed forward. To my surprise he dropped his war hammer and simply wrapped his arms around my shield. Before the sheer weight dragged it from my arm I was able to swing my mace into the top of his head. He went down but so did my shield.
I was now down to my last weapon and had no shield. Considering what I was facing I thought I’d done fairly well. I’d taken down six out of ten Neanderthal attackers while having almost
no prior experience in this type of combat. But the loss of the shield was a big disadvantage. And I still had four of these ungodly-looking creatures coming towards me, determined to see me die.
I saw only one possible chance now. With speed and strength in my favor I wrapped both hands around the hilt of my bludgeon and sprang forward screaming like a wild man. The first one I came to raised his sword to parry my strike. He may as well not even have bothered. The heavy mace met the blade and never slowed as it continued on, smashing into his clavicle with a sickening thud. A hammer blow caught me in the side, somewhat blunted by the protective metal pieces sewn into my vest. I swept the mace in a backhand and grazed my attacker’s shoulder. He stumbled backward and I hopped close enough to deliver a second, killing blow to the head. I paid for it with a knife wound to my thigh from behind. My leg buckled with the pain and I dropped to a kneeling position. The man who had stabbed me had the knife in one hand and a sword in the other. He had the sword over his head in preparation for the kill stroke. Behind him the largest man-thing, the one who appeared to be calling the shots, was also advancing, both of his swords over his head. I did the only thing I could do at the time, knowing that it would not be enough. I threw my weapon with all my strength at the smaller and closer attacker. The savage spiked instrument struck him in the neck with a meaty thud. He dropped like the proverbial polled calf but now I was weaponless and at the mercy of the last grey-skinned beast and I could see that mercy was not in his nature.
The bigger beast had dropped one of his swords. He now leapt forward with his weapon raised and in position to deliver a killing blow. I raised my forearms intending to take the blow on my armguards, thus extending my existence for another second or two.
The blow never came.
Instead the largest meat cleaver I’d ever seen split his head from crown to eyebrow from behind. His evil black eyes rolled upward like he was trying to see what had struck him. Then they glazed over. The body stayed upright for an instant, as if it was striving to continue on without the assistance of the brain. It was unsuccessful. He dropped to his knees then fell forward at my feet. Behind him stood the woman that had been tied up to the stake. Her eyes were wild. She looked from the dead beast-man, to me. Then she fainted away.
CHAPTER TEN
Companions
Limping, I carried the woman over to where her fellow captive still sawed at his bonds with the dagger I’d seen Tinker dragging. The braided leather that had bound the woman were lighter and thinner and she had been able to cut them much quicker. This small fact had saved my life. The wound to my thigh burned like a hot poker but I was able to bear it until I got her out of the sun.
Her companion finished cutting through the braided leather rope before we got to him. He rose and came over to us trying to help me with her weight. He could barely manage to keep himself upright. I indicated that I needed no help and he stepped back, watching. As I laid her in the shade of a scrubby tree he started talking to me in a language that I could not understand. I gave what I hoped to be the universal gesture: a shrug. He seemed to grasp my meaning. He looked around then spied something and went to retrieve it. It was one of the skins that the grey people had used for a night blanket. He pulled it over and gently covered the woman with the garment, concealing her nakedness. He glanced at me and I nodded, hoping he recognized the gesture as one of approval.
I stood and looked around me, examining the remains of the camp. My hands were still trembling and my heart was only now starting to slow. I have had some close calls and seen some nasty fights in the prison but never had I been in the position of having to kill multiple attackers by hacking them to pieces. It would take me a long time to recover from the shock of what I had been forced to do. My hands, face, chest and shoulders were still spattered with drying and crusted blood. The sight of it raised the gorge in my throat.
And yet I felt a surge of incredible exhilaration that I was certain came from me and not Tinker. I was alive! I had fought for my life against impossible odds and I had prevailed. The feeling was indescribable.
Then the fatigue hit me. I had just engaged in several minutes of all-out physical effort. In truth, I was able to recognize that I was not as exhausted as I should have been considering the effort I had just put forth. I thanked God for the low gravity and high oxygen content of this world. With them I might have collapsed from the effort and been dispatched by my attackers. I leaned against one of the small trees which were proving shade to the woman to catch my breath.
A few minutes later, with my savior in obviously good and tender hands, I set about inspecting the camp the grey people had been using. Recovering my spear and using it as a makeshift cane I hobbled through the area. There was not a lot to inspect. Each of the brutes had owned at least one garment of skin or fur. Several of these were still spread over the branches of low bushes having been utilized as night shelters as well as clothing. Apart from the weapons that were strewn about, there were several wooden buckets, a ladle and a few leather pouches with straps that appeared to be designed to be carried over the shoulder. The pouches contained spices, some sort of herbs, extra knives and various objects that could be used to make life on the trail more convenient.
One of the buckets held water that I assumed had been drawn from the nearby stream. I carried it over to where the male was attending to the woman along with a ladle and a patch of soft suede I’d found in one of the pouches. I dipped the suede into the water bucket and squeezed out the excess then wiped away some of the grime from her and offered it to the man. He smiled his understanding and accepted it, continuing the task of cleaning her face and shoulders. I watched him for a brief time, eager to gain some understanding of these people.
My new male companion was about five feet, six inches tall, had short brown hair and olive skin turned darker by the sun. He was muscular but thin and had dark brown eyes. I assumed his lack of bulk came from the low gravity on this planet because he was obviously strong and, except for the ordeal he’d been through, in good health. From the accumulated dirt and dried sweat on his body I calculated that he and his female friend had been captives for several days at least. I noted that all of the man’s attentions were focused on the young woman, ignoring his own needs.
Continuing my inspection of the camp, I followed a small trail from the biggest fire pit to a spot about a hundred feet away from the camp. There was a drop off leading down into a kind of natural ditch. That’s where I got my first glimpse of the horror the two captives had endured. The ditch had been used as a garbage dump and toilet. At the bottom of the depression rested human remains. There was a pile of viscera, feet, hands and, most disturbing, a human head. The top of the skull had been sawn open and the brain pan was empty. This time I was unable to fight the urge to vomit.
Limping back to the camp I saw a large bag made of nicely-cured soft leather stashed in one of the lean-tos. I scooped it out and rummaged through it. The articles inside were more in keeping with human production than the crude articles I found in the other pouches. There were pieces of women’s clothing, gloves, soft slippers and dozens of small bottles stoppered with cork. There was also a fine collection of delicate cutting tools such as one would expect to be owned by a physician or veterinarian. A little packet that was secured by ribbon held an assortment of needles and several different types of thread. Something told me these were for stitching wounds, not darning socks.
I took the bag over to the man who looked surprised but happy at its presence. By now he had fashioned himself a kilt from one of the skin robes. He pointed to the bag and tried to speak with me again. I smiled and shook my head, subjecting him to another shrug. He gave up and was about to return to his fussing over the woman when he spied something behind me and froze.
By now I was so paranoid of the newly discovered dangers in this world that I immediately swung around and raised my mace to confront whatever he had seen. Tinker was squatting about ten feet from us. She had apparently steppe
d in one of the many pools of blood surrounding us and was busily trying to sop it up with a handful of soft moss. She paused in her actions when she noticed us watching her. She then gave us a squeak, wiggled her nose and resumed her efforts.
I looked back to the man and saw he was mesmerized by my little friend. He smiled thinly but tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes. His lips trembled. He looked to me and asked an incomprehensible question, then back to Tinker. Of course I did not understand him. But his reaction to Tinker was one of obvious reverence. I ambled over toward her. I could tell this worried him, probably because he thought I would scare her away. Instead, with some difficulty, I sat next to her on the short yellow grass. She hopped into my lap and nuzzled my face, emitting the soft purring sound that I had come to identify with her being happy.
I would say my human friend sat down but it was really more like he collapsed in a heap. Obviously these creatures were known to the indigenous people. He seemed as if he was witnessing a miracle. Hell, for all I knew he might have been. I still had no idea what was normal on this world.
I decided we should get moving in case our unfortunate adversaries were expecting company but I didn’t want to move the young woman who was still unconscious. Considering the fact that she had saved my life it seemed that waiting for her to recover was the least I could do. To pass the time I figured I would start at the basics with my new companion. Imitating the immortal scene between Tarzan and Jane in the old movies I pointed to my chest and said “Taggart”. I then pointed back to him.
He immediately grasped my meaning and answered.
“Vynn”.
“Vynn”, I repeated.
The Olvion Reality (The Chronicles of Olvion Book 1) Page 8