The 9th Fortress

by John Paul Jackson

  "Not long for you," he said. "Now, to fix this samurai. Two simple ingredients: a slope… and its snow."

  Scarfell lowered a free hand to the snow near his foot; then pressed his palm flat over it. The snow there began to rumble, trembling the peak I lay on. It shook like my own convulsing body, snapping cracks over the slope and sending great layers sliding from the peak. These snow slabs overlapped and rolled, triggering a gathering mass that collected in no time to form the white breath of a dragon: An avalanche.

  In less than ten seconds, this became a runaway force, a thirty-foot tsunami of air and ice stretching half a mile in width and accelerating up to 150mph. As it bore down on Kat, I held a frazzling eye on this powdery monster, my mouth foaming at the corners. Burial imminent, death inevitable, the samurai stopped. This was not an illusion like the condor or some see through magic trick — this was a real and overwhelming killer like none he had faced before, one he had no hope of defeating.

  Moments from being flattened, the stubborn problem solver came up with a solution. With swords swinging, Kat waded for the nearest tall tree. There, he removed his belt and threw that length of leather around the trunk. Breathlessly working, he wrapped the ends of the tree-hugging belt several times around his wrists, drove both swords into the bark, then held his breath as the bomb hit.

  Throughout this scene, Scarfell's hand inadvertently moved from my face as he watched his avalanche with pride. The fire in my head ceased slightly, and temporarily released from my coma, I showed the wizard why I was never to be underestimated. Not ever. I switched off the warning pains in my head — to be ignored — I stood, spun-kick and hooked the wizard's heel, sending the old man to his back.

  Scarfell lay baffled on the peak. "I…" he gasped; "I've… never been struck before!"

  Before the wizard could stand, I drove my foot deep into his ribcage. "Get used to it!"

  There was a crack of bone and Scarfell rolled to one side. I smashed another foot across his mouth, cutting his lip and spraying his beard with blood. I swung for the hardest blow yet, but completely missed the mark as Scarfell disappeared in a vaporous red puff, leaving me kicking thin air and dropping to my backside.

  Instantaneously, Scarfell reappeared on top of me with all his spindly fingers coiled around my neck. And with livid spits of fire and blood, he stormed, "Dare you! Dare you!"

  Heat scorched the outside and insides of my throat. I was being drowned by fire. I reached for the dagger or short sword at my belt, anything, but Scarfell's pressing weight prevented me from grasping them.

  "Dare you!"

  My clinging fingers searched the snow for a stone to pummel him with.

  "Dare you boy!"

  My lungs were out of oxygen now, and if one feels the soul ever leave them, this was that moment — my second death. However, before I could transform into a blob of light, my hand found a piece of wood — the flute. I snatched at it and without hesitation, stabbed the wizard's left eyeball. A spurt of jelly burst from the broken socket, and Scarfell was gone in a wail of scarlet spirit; a force that blew me back like a sled on snow, washing me completely off the mountain side.

  In free fall, the wind was so strong that it extinguished the fire in my lungs, and even now, in this most perilous situation, I had an option. I would aim to land on my head; break my skull open on a boulder. An instant and hopefully painless way to go. My ears popped from the pressure, and as my doom rapidly increased in detail, I saw the perfect boulder to finish me off. I aimed my head for its edge, and closed my eyes tight.

  The moment of impact came and went, yet strangely, I could still feel the winds press against my body. Opening my eyes again, I was still falling, but on the back of a Weather-Maker. My cheek was forced to the horse's neck as Atlas pulled out of an incredible dive. She snorted and I cheered, aiming her nose for the clouds.

  ***

  Only the scattered treetops appeared left on the snowy slope. The avalanche had set like concrete and a breeze danced like ghosts with something to celebrate. Suddenly, four inches of katana steel broke free from the surface to catch the sun's glare. The blade and the hand holding it fought its way out. Desperate and exhausted fingers then dropped that sword. Kat couldn't climb, fight, or reach any higher. This buried man needed help, deliverance, and he got it.

  On the back of a wing flapping horse, I pulled the puffy faced samurai, near dead from his grave…

  15. Sir Godwin Eddinray

  Atlas scuffed her shoes at the bright yellow sand whilst Kat and I pondered the wide and deep blue sea before us. The Leviathan was said to be an angry spirit made of liquid alone, destroying for destruction sake, and hiding somewhere in this stretch of ocean. Bludgeon wrote a tantalising scribble in his book, Predators of the Under Realms. Leviathan: A tempest to blot out the sun. Details remained sketchy, for Bludgeon never witnessed the monster personally; he wrote only of rumours and hearsay; a collection of horror stories good enough to convince him, and me, that this thing was out there.

  Forcing the worry to the back of my mind, I laced up my boots after peeling off the blood sticky bandages from my right foot. The healing process was remarkably fast, and although it wasn't a pleasant stump to look at, I could walk a long way on it.

  "You ready girl?" I asked Atlas. The horse briskly snorted so I patted her neck. "She's ready Kat. I'm ready. You?"

  The samurai fixed me with that scowl of his, perhaps warning me never to hurry him again. I didn't care; I was in jubilant mood for having overcome so much. I had killed Scarfell with the thrust of a flute; the consequences of that action would free the alphabet women from their village, remove Eternal's curse and reunite her with Bludgeon. The future of the Distinct Earth was brighter thanks to me.

  Needless to say, my man of experience was not so sure…

  ***

  Since I was the one who played the flute that tamed the Weather-Maker, I was the only hand Atlas would allow at her reins. Kat pressed his forehead against the shield on my back, either catching a nap or shutting out the thrill. The horse almost tore holes in the sky with her pace, skin endlessly swapping colour with the sea's blue, the sun's afternoon oranges, and making lightning time over the water.

  "Are you enjoying it Kat?" I yelled back, embracing the ride of a lifetime on the back of an immortal. "You've been real quiet!"

  He said nothing, but I wouldn't allow his personality to spoil this for me. Hooting, I lowered the horse’s nose for a vertical sprint toward the choppy blue surface. We fell and fell, wind wailing in my ears. I felt Kat's fingers clutch deep into the sides of my ribs — he sure wasn't napping. With a grin, I pulled Atlas out of the dive in time to catch the spray on her hoofs.

  "Wahoo!" I cried, smearing the salt water from my eyes. "It's a shame we can't keep her Kat, don't you think? We could fly directly to the 9th Fortress on this baby!"

  "Hello!" A distant voice cried out. "See me!"

  "Hear that?" I asked Kat, but the samurai was already on the lookout.

  "Hello!” the male voice repeated. “See me! I am here! Look here!"

  "There!" exclaimed Kat, pointing below.

  From our great vantage point, we could make out a flashing mirror or twinkling star at one particular point over the ocean. There came another flash at that same location, and I duly aimed Atlas toward the anomaly. Reflections soon became a man, frenziedly waving and jumping on a minuscule piece of land: a raft of some kind. We swooped down and Atlas hovered over the raft for more detail.

  "Is that… a knight?" I asked.

  It was. A man dressed from head to foot in medieval armour, with jangling beads of mail. Kat was sceptical about approaching the stranger — who waved his long sword like a victory flag — but then Kat wasn't the one in charge of Atlas.

  "Ahoy there!" cried the knight, removing his helmet and lowering the long sword. "Goodness gracious me!" he stumbled. "What sort of supernatural beasty are you men riding there? Come down here, join me!"

  The lanky man had a
gaunt face sucked of all fat, thinning hair, a curled moustache under a long nose and a welcoming smile that brought no colour to his cheeks. His body armour was covered in dimples all over, but still a sun attracting silver. Unfortunately, this man's raft was not as striking, made simply from a dozen or so logs poorly strung together with vines. Oddly, the tops of these logs were missing layers of bark, exposing a lighter under-wood.

  "Hello!" he said again, catching his breath. "You have nothing to fear gentlemen! Nothing to fear at all! Pray land, my craft is sea worthy!"

  Despite Kat's vigilance, I took pity and set Atlas carefully down on the edge of the raft. The logs bobbled recklessly under the new weight, but the thing remained afloat.

  "Hurrah!" the knight declared — his relief unmistakable. "My, what a beautiful animal! I see it uses stealth to ward off those undesirables. Mightily Impressive! Mightily impressive indeed!"

  "Who are you?" I asked, eyeing him over.

  "My name is Sir Godwin Eddinray," he cordially replied, his polite accent similar to Newton's. "Friend to you, and servant to my queen!"

  "Godwin?" I inquired. "Did you happen to — "

  "Eddinray,” he interrupted, “if you please! Only my mother called me Godwin. She survived the black plague, didn't you know. Survival is in my family's blood, and it surges through mine this very day!"

  "And who is your queen, Eddinray?"

  The knight appeared flummoxed by my simple question, as if a wife had just asked a forgetful husband the date of their wedding anniversary.

  "Eh?" he stuttered. "My queen is? Well the damnedest thing is I cannot remember!" he giggled, nervously. "What does it matter anyhow? Memories I feel are like clumps of manure thrown at a wall. Some stick whilst others slide, don't you agree?"

  I glanced back to an un-amused samurai.

  "What do you do now, knight?" Kat asked him.

  Suddenly, Eddinray brandished his long sword straight in the air, before proudly announcing. "I seek chivalrous adventure and daring do in the Distinct Earth! This… is what I do now!"

  "Okay," I muttered with an unsure smile. "My name is Daniel. The man behind is Kat."

  "Meow!" the knight shrieked, his hand making a paw. "Delighted to meet you both, and charmed, utterly charmed by this timely arrival!"

  Sir Godwin Eddinray then held out an offering. "Would you gents care for some bark?" he asked us, forcing some into his mouth. "It is vile to be sure, and sticks to your teeth like all bark should, but it is also strangely addictive. I find myself hopelessly snagged by its lure."

  Politely, I refused.

  "Hysteria," Kat whispered in my ear. "Sunstroke madness. A foolhardy castaway."

  "You think?" I hissed back. "He looks normal to me. Well… normal for this place anyway."

  "Hello!" cried the Knight, waving generously in our direction. "My ears are perfectly functional gentlemen! I am standing right here after all! Do the eyes in your head not see me?"

  I shrugged apologetically as Eddinray picked the bark from his mouth then shamefully sniffed at the saliva-dripping clump. "Ordinary people do not eat bark, do they?” he asked. “This is unusual behaviour, is it not?"

  My sympathetic nod confirmed the Englishman's suspicions. "Sadly," he added; "I ran out of food many moons ago and I'm afraid the situation has taken a rather grim turn. My own hand looked appealing at one stage, all deliciously pink with five succulent fingers; that is ‘til I happened to glance upon my fingernails. The dirt put me right off!"

  "Grim or not," grizzled Kat, "we will not rescue a mad person!"

  "Rescue?" argued the knight; "is a strong accusation, Sir. Strong indeed! I am in a pickle — of that there can be no doubt — but nothing I cannot muscle myself out of! Moreover, I am certainly not a mad person! I tell you I am the sanest dead man alive!"

  Eddinray’s armor screeched like a rusty hinge whenever he made the slightest movement, and he appeared faint under the weight of it all.

  "Hot in that mail, knight?" Kat teased.

  "Like a pig on a revolving spit I am roasting ninja, but also bear naked under this mail and metal. There are many horrors in this realm — my nakedness would only attract them of course."

  "Of course!" I agreed, amused. "And how did you get, in your pickle, Eddinray?"

  Sir Godwin Eddinray smeared a hand across his burdened brow. "Fought off wretched marmoset men on an island not far from here… the persistent buggers barely left me time to launch this floating ramshackle. There is surely no honor amongst there kind!"

  "Marmoset men?" I said.

  "Or baboon boys!" he answered. "Of their origin I am not entirely certain, but their primate strength was formidable, though fortunately not a match for my sly cunning." He exhaled a weary breath now, as if he had just re-fought the incident over in his mind. "I will say this to you men — those heathen swine do not eat bananas!"

  I blurted out a laugh, but held my mouth shut when witnessing Eddinray's sincerity. He was visually shaken by the memory of that mysterious marmoset island. "For all my dexterity,” he concluded, “I have been drifting lost and forgotten. If you gentlemen would provide me safe passage across this ocean on the back of your beast, I shall be forever grateful."

  "No!" barked Kat. "I do not like him, Fox. I do not like you knight!"

  "Don't you ninja? Why, I'm a lovely chap, and most especially trustworthy! Oh yes!"

  "I am no ninja!"

  "My samurai companion may be right," I said, diplomatically. "The three of us could be asking too much of this horse’s back."

  "I see," said Eddinray, glum faced. "Then I shall take my chances with the bottomless sea and burning sun. With no food, no water and no chance. Godspeed on your way men. Good luck to you!"

  "Ya!" exclaimed Kat, kicking the hind of Atlas. The horse ignored him, and I did too. For all the risk involved, I liked this knight, and couldn't leave him to die.

  "He comes with," I said. "You're not evil, are you knight?"

  "Certainly not!" he protested. "I vanquish evil, Sir! With one thrust of my sword or butt of the head, whatever is necessary and to hand. Yes, I smile in the face of wickedness and call it ugly!"

  "He is mad!" said Kat. "A crazy fool Fox, and on your head be it!"

  I bent into Atlas' pointy ear and whispered. "Can you take the three of us girl?" She responded with a single snort and bobble of the head — Eddinray could come along.

  "Excellent!" he cried, armour squeaking. "Excellent!"

  "Stretch your feet for now," I yawned, getting off the horse. "Sun's setting. We'll beat it at dawn. Can you catch us some food, Kat? Anything?"

  The bad tempered samurai spat during his climb off Atlas.

  "What a grumpy little so and so you are!" said Eddinray. "Are you and I going to have trouble on our flight?"

  Kat cleared the snot from his nose then shoved passed Eddinray. With his back to us, he sat at the edge of the raft, immersing legs in the water.

  "Catch us food?" the knight considered as Kat swished out his katana. "Gentlemen, I have exhausted all hunting methods known to man, and there is no food to be found in these waters! It is the definition of barren I say!"

  "Silence his mouth!" Kat complained. "Or you both go in the water!"

  I placed a finger over my lips to urge the knight quiet. Together and in silence, we then watched Kat lose himself in meditation, raise the katana over his head and hold the breath in his lungs. More than a minute passed when he stabbed the blade into the water and pulled a fish from the sea, a gasping green thing skewered on the sword. Kat flicked the flapping food over his shoulder and into my arms — then repeated the process.

  ***

  We filled our bellies with raw fish that evening, the moon rippling a spotlight over an oily ocean. I found Eddinray to be warm and charming in an eccentric, mad scientist sort of way. He also shared something in common with Kat that I couldn't fail to notice: both men believed that they were the single greatest warrior who ever lived. But while Kat was quietly s
ecure in his skill, Eddinray wanted the whole realm to hear how many times he'd risked his neck saving it. Over the course of our meal, the knight boasted of brilliant battles fought and won, of duels with the deadliest of adversaries — the heroic recounts of a man willing to climb the tallest towers for the fairest maidens. His eagerness to talk was a refreshing change, but one only I appreciated. The samurai showed us his shoulder the entire night, which disappointed me. I knew Kat didn't enjoy company, but also thought I had gotten through some of his barriers and that he would be open for conversation whenever engaged. I still had a lot to learn.

  The Weather-Maker curled like a devoted pet beside me, her coat reflecting the stars and warming me like a sleeping bag. As I stroked her thick hair, I felt something unusual wrapped around her neck. It was a satchel, perfectly positioned for her teeth to get at its contents. Every time I tried to feel inside the bag, Atlas would nudge my hand away, so I took the hint to mind my own business.

  "That's when the fire lizards of the Altmerrion zone set upon me!" continued Eddinray, his fists thrashing the air. "Their breath burnt off my eyebrows and their claws threw their dung, but I got the best of them. I chopped and hacked them into little tiny pieces, and there was no guilt on my part. It is one thing to throw an axe at a man's head, but quite another to throw ones faeces!"

  "That was a fascinating story," I said, genuinely entertained. "You've seen so much. Tell me Eddinray, have you ever laid eyes on the Leviathan? Are the stories about it true?"

  Eddinray's food became briefly caught in his throat. "The Leviathan," he coughed and swallowed; "is very real, Danny boy. I have seen it swarming like bees in the distance, a gathering haze. Now other eyes may claim this to be a bad spot of weather, a brooding storm on the horizon perhaps, but I say it is the Leviathan! It is the sole reason I travel by raft, a craft larger would create the waves to attract the creature. The abomination is drawn to motion, you see, motion of any sort."