Zombie Day Care

by Craig Halloran

  “Oh, well, how ’bout the time you wanted to—”

  “—Shut up Billip!” Mikkel said. “Vee, what’s the plan?”

  “If we get caught, I say we just act like we’re interested … play dumb is all. Hopefully we won’t arouse any problems. I figure we can get a closer look first.”

  “Well, don’t expect me to act too friendly with the kobolds,” Mikkel said, clutching his studded club. “If they get too close I’ll crack their stupid little skulls.”

  “We know!” they all replied, causing the man’s light blue eyes to widen in his face.

  As quiet as cats they followed after Chongo, deeper into the belly of the southern forests.

  DS CHAPTER 4

  It had taken almost thirty minutes of diligent pursuit before the weathered group caught up with Chongo. The dogs’ growl was low and excited, as its stiff tail whipped back forth. The men crouched down, the sound of clashing steel and raised voices traveled not far in the distance. The trees and broad foliage muted the battle sounds, as the men glanced at one another. He could see their faces drawn taunt, as Billip and Mikkel readied their missile weapons.

  Using hand signals, Venir directed Billip and Chongo to scout ahead, followed by himself and Melegal, with Mikkel in the rear. They moved like big grey foxes through the flourishing green, ignoring the briars and bugs. The archer and dog disappeared as they stopped and waited in a small clearing. He could now distinguish the voices of men crying out in battle.

  He gestured to Melegal, How many?

  The rogue’s eyes were closed; hand cupping his ear and with a slight shrug he flashed ten fingers.

  We can take them, Mikkel mouthed back.

  He wanted to laugh as he watched Melegal’s scowl deepen. Venir had no intention of engaging anyone, even if his companions liked to attack first and think later. In nervous anticipation they waited in the agonizing heat. He took out his short bow and rubbed a dab of oil along its taunt string. Ten men was a lot to take on, and they would need to be ready to fight at a second’s notice—or flee if necessary.

  As a trained ranger with seasons of hard soldiering he knew better than to take things head on; sometimes it paid better to just watch and report. The seconds dragged as the sounds of pain and agony droned on. Concern showed in all of their faces now as the dog appeared with the scout running behind.

  “It’s safe to talk low,” Billip said, slightly out of breath. “Ten Royal foot soldiers are already dead, and about six are left, heavily armed and battling four gnolls and an armored woman.” Billip pulled out his canteen, shaking his head. “The soldiers have their hands full. They’re below this ridge; looks like they got trapped.”

  “Any others?” Venir asked.

  “I took a good look. No signs. But that woman fights better than two gnolls together. Never seen anything like it. What do we do? You want to go around?”

  Everyone looked at Venir.

  Venir didn’t want to risk anyone, but he couldn’t stand the thought of men falling to the gnolls. The tall, wolf-faced humanoids with canine teeth were dreaded warriors. They killed for pleasure and were known for their lengthy torture of prisoners. Despite their hairy, wolf-like appearance, gnolls spoke the common tongue well and could track like a dog. They were not vast in number, but were well trained, armed and formidable warriors. The fact that a woman fought with them suggested to him that he was about to encounter the brigand army. A wave of excitement overcame him, turning his guts.

  “Let’s all take a look. I have a feeling this is what we came to see.”

  Billip the archer led, drawing from his quiver, as they fell behind in a small column. They crept to the edge of a ridge, flat on their bellies with weapons drawn, bolts locked and arrows nocked. Below, the battle was furious and bloody. The seasoned Royal soldiers battled with gleaming longswords and crested shields. Their breastplates and battle helmets were battered and smeared red.

  Corpses of hacked down men littered the scene, gashed and punctured, still as a log on the ground. Venir watched as more soldiers were cut down with swords and hacking axes, overwhelmed by greater speed and power. He fought the urge to charge down into the fray. He kept his bow ready, rising to a knee. At times like this, the inhabitants of Bish had to weigh their own odds of survival before getting involved. What’s this?

  A striking female warrior was carving up the soldiers as if they were just boys. The impression the woman made on him was unforgettable. She wore only a sleeveless chainmail dress of bronze, ending high above her knees. Her sinewy arms and legs were blood-splattered, and long jet-black hair flowed from beneath a spiked helmet of an ornate design. The only other protection she wore were iron-banded bracers around her forearms. He had never seen the likes of her before. But most impressive were the pair of battle axes she used with intense ferocity. One in each hand, she commanded the matching weapons, as easily as a jester tossing apples. Her strikes were viper-like, powerful and devastating.

  He watched from above, in awe, uncertain how to react. Seeing men die under the banner of a good Royal house was not easy to watch. It was even more so as the evil gnolls were taking part. Anticipation and the passion to act built up inside him. Melegal, who watched from his side, gripped his broad shoulder and pulled him back. Venir eyed the man and nodded. Not our fight. He maintained his position and continued to watch the battle unfold.

  The woman warrior’s haymaker axe blades felled her opponents one by one. Her axes, spiked on the back, penetrated their shields and ripped them from the soldiers grasp, leaving the men to defending with only their longswords. The gnolls were engaged as well, heavy bastard swords swinging hard and deadly, keeping the valiant men from escaping her wrath. She fought each man, one by one, as if there was a personal score to settle. It was clear that she relished in what she was doing as she screamed after each blood curdling victory.

  One soldier snatched another longsword from the ground and began to fight her two-handed. He held his ground in feverish parries and she pounded away at him. The exhausted man was not fast enough to counter her attacks. He stabbed at her only to catch a spike in his skull, finishing his valiant efforts. She slung the gore from her axe and was on to her next victim. Despite the demoralizing situation, the Royal foot soldiers did not cower; they faced her, one by one, with the bravado of the best from the world of Bish.

  Now the soldiers were down to just two, fighting back to back, pinned in by the woman and the remaining three gnoll warriors. They were surrounded and backed off from their attacks. From above, Venir could hear the woman cursing and barking at her own; these soldiers were proving more formidable than expected. He heard her demand their surrender. But the exhausted men did not lower their blades, cursing back and spitting on the ground. Fight and die, no shame in that.

  One soldier was bleeding heavily, his leg useless, head sagging underneath a heavy iron helm. Two gnolls pounced on him first, batting away his sword and stabbing his wavering figure deep in the back of the neck, crumpling the man lifeless to the ground. Now there was just one Royal left, the commander.

  Two big gnolls loomed to the man’s left and right, barring his path, leaving him squared up against the approaching woman. The soldier readied his sword that gleamed bright red in the sunlight. The man showed no fear, his face as hard as stone, ready to take his fate head on. A loud klatch broke through the foliage as a heavy bolt struck a bull’s eye into one gnolls forehead. The Royal commander flinched, but the woman didn’t. Two more arrows zipped through the air, burying into the armored chest of the other gnoll, dropping it wailing to the ground with a thud. Venir charged down the ridge. Bish!

  Uncertainty didn’t slow the helmed woman, she responded, moving in like a panther, swinging low, she tore out his armored commanders left knee with her axe-blade. The soldier cut back with a powerful two-handed blow, which she deflected of her bracer, skinning her arm. She screamed in fury. She countered with a crunching blow, punching through his breastplate and deep into his clavi
cle. The sword dropped from the man’s lifeless grip as he fell to one knee.

  Venir was charging behind her, yelling for her to stop, but her finishing blow was too fast as she crowned the man between the eyelets of his helm. The soldier was dead. She turned just in time to see him coming for her and she began laughing.

  “It seems you are too late to save this man,” she said, ripping her axe from the man’s head. ”Now, can you save yourself … yellow hair?”

  Venir paused ten steps away from her, heart thundering in his temples, brandishing his longsword and hunting knife. Beside him, Chongo barked and growled.

  “Mmm … dog meat, my favorite,” she said, licking her maroon lips.

  He measured his next move, knowing that he had more support than she. She did not seem worried about the likes of him, though, or the rest of them. She stood before him, tall and proud. Now, Venir was so close that her ranking features captured his imagination. Her dark blue eyes burned from behind the eyelets of her helmet, intelligent and cunning. He yearned to know more about the woman with blood dripping from the axes that hung loose in her hands.

  “Hey … yellow hair,” she said in a taunting voice, “… if you see something you like, why not just come and get it.” He didn’t know what to say as she added, “Seems I have a mute boy hear, it’s a shame, all muscle and no tongue.”

  A bright white smiled grew under Venir’s nose as she stepped forward, then back. He sheathed his sword and knife and folded his arms over his chest.

  “I can’t help but wonder why, a woman such as you, would run around with filthy gnolls? Surely you can keep better company?”

  “Ah, the boy has a tongue. I might have use for you yet.”

  She stared back and took better measure of the man she faced. Her battle-hardened body began to loosen. He felt her eyes bore into his chest as if she liked what she saw. He was ready for her to spring at any moment, fighting to maintain his composure. He felt something churning inside of him as she continued to look him up and down.

  Rivets of blood slid off her coated helmet as she removed it. Her face was beautiful, slender and strong, her dark eyes searching his. Her blood smeared skin was browned by the suns, her cheekbones high and noble, scarred and somewhat disfigured; but he kept his gaze on her eyes alone. She seemed to like that, a smile coming and going from her lips. The closer she came he seemed to fall under her shadow, for she was taller than him. If this woman isn’t the Brigand Queen, he thought, she must be the queen of something. She stopped just out of striking range as he hushed his barking dog that dropped to his haunches. Danger still prickled the air, but it could wait.

  “So tell me, yellow-hair,” she said in a voice as polished as silver, “why did you kill my men? They had no quarrel with you … or yours.” She looked around, but there were no signs of his companions.

  “My name is Venir,” he said, “and gnolls are not men, they are beasts that we like to kill. Luckily for you, you are not a gnoll, and we don’t like to kill women, or you would be dead too.”

  “Hah!” she said. “Even if I were a gnoll woman, you wouldn’t be able to kill me.” She waved her battle axes in front of his face. Their craftsmanship was of the likes he had never seen. He found them almost as fascinating as her.

  A few silent moments went by and the tension in the forest seemed to ease.

  “I tell you what, Vee-neer. I’ll spare you and your men if you tell me what business you have in my forest.”

  “Spare us? Now it’s my turn to laugh. Hah!” he said, not hiding his chuckle. “…anyway, we are looking for some people.”

  “What kind of people?” she said, wiping blood from her lips.

  “Ones who follow a brigand queen named Jarla. If she lives in your forests you may have heard of her,” he said, not withholding an ounce of sarcasm. “I hear she mates with gnolls and has a butt like an ogre. Ever hear of her, princess?”

  “You are a witty one, Venir, I will give you that. It’s been a long time since a man made me laugh.” She gave him another once over as she looked around. “It seems I’m in need of a new escort. I need to report back to this queen you spoke of.” She rolled her eyes. ”Perhaps I can help, she is very fond of me.”

  “Eh … that would nice.”

  “I suggest you watch your tongue in the meantime, yellow hair. I think you have seen what I can do to people I don’t like.”

  He nodded, not certain what to say.

  “So … why did you take them down? Royal houses are not often trifled with.”

  Her face darkened into another identity.

  “It was payback.”

  Seeing her glare, he backed off the topic.

  “So, now what?”

  “Tell your two men to come on in. I’ll take you back to my camp and feed you. But, don’t kill any more of my gnolls. Got it?”

  “I’m not promising anything ….”

  Billip and Mikkel were quiet as they accompanied their friend back to her camp. It was unsettling. Marching a more-than-capable warrior back to her own camp, containing natural enemies among the ranks, was not the best idea for survival. Chongo stayed back with the two men. Venir was oblivious to their concerns. He didn’t know why he followed, but he did, his passion overcame his reason. He didn’t notice the dour looks behind his back, but he would have done the same for them. Melegal, however, managed to evade the situation and she had given no indication that she knew of his presence.

  From the trees on the higher ground, the rogue watched them go, shaking his head in disgust.

  “Stupid …”

  Melegal worried he would never see his comrades again.