by Nelson, J P
These creatures must have never seen a horse before, and if so, surely not one such as this. The creature which leaped upon Kowi’s back did not have time to grab a hold before he had been bucked high into the air. Hitting the ground hard, Kowi then leaped upward into a sunfish and mid-air corkscrew, landing to catch his second would-be attacker full in the chest with both rear hoofs.
Snaking his head and charging with barred teeth, Kowi attacked the creatures and caused them to scatter in their own confusion. René, however, was still having his challenges.
Apparently, he was now considered the easier prey. Yet his blade and hatchet did not cease to strike and hew, all the time trying for a chance to close with Kowi in a bid to leap up and escape.
All sound was distorted in the unnatural and ghostly haze; suddenly René noticed he was stepping in sand. There was no sand anywhere around Banshee Canyon, where was he? What was going on?
Turning from one downed opponent, he was just in time to see one of the creatures in mid leap toward his torso. With no time to evade, René ran his blade forward into the creature’s body. Carried backward from the collision, René tried to roll sideways so as not to get caught under the carcass. In rolling out, the blade was wrenched from his hand.
‘No!’ He thought in desperation. Trying to get to the still writhing form, yet another creature attempted to breathe its vapor upon him. Ducking away while sucking in his breath, René performed a border shift and tossed his hatchet to the right hand while drawing his left boot knife. Catching his new assailant in the midriff with the hatchet, he reversed direction and with a backhand motion caught another in the midriff as well. Then he followed with a spearing motion to the side of the neck with his dagger.
‘Too many …’ he thought, ‘… can’t keep this up.’ He had to get to Kowi. Where was Kowi? He could not hear the stallion anywhere. Was he down?
René felt himself get tackled from behind and was sure it was all over. Those infectious looking claws raked his body as he felt the force take him forward. René refused to give in, however, and as he fell he tried to twist so as to carry the creature over into the drop. But instead of hitting the ground, they continued to fall, and fall, and fall.
‘The edge,’ René thought, they had somehow fallen over the edge of the canyon. ‘I’ve failed,’ was the only thing in his mind and he gnashed his teeth at the idea. Roaring his rage, he waited for the smashing of his body against the cliff side and rocks below – but it didn’t come.
The creature released his hold on René’s body and scrambled while screaming a crackled cry of its own in terror. Somewhere, René thought he heard the sounds of Banshee Canyon, but so far away. All seemed hot, humid, yet the rich smell of vegetation crossed his nostrils.
‘What …?’
René’s impact with the heavy foliage of high up trees was completely unexpected. Smashing against up-stretched limbs, breaking through and crashing into more limbs below blunted the speed of his fall, but he was still coming down dangerously fast.
He couldn’t count the number of times he hit and broke through branches, and once he felt as if he had been torn in half when he draped over a thick vine. The force of the snag caused the vine to give tremendously, swing in a large arc, and before René could catch his breath and hang on he fell again.
Wishing he had grabbed his dagger with a reverse grip, René tried anxiously to hook his hatchet on something, anything. Somehow he grabbed a bite on a solid limb, and was sure he separated his right shoulder when he stopped with a jolt. Feeling himself losing grip on the hatchet handle, he swung the other hand up to grab hold of the limb before falling again.
Before he was able to secure himself, his right armed failed and he lost hold of the dagger as well in a frantic effort to clutch the branch. The fingernails of his left hand tore as he dangled for a moment, trying to get his right arm to respond, when he slipped and fell again.
Hitting the side of a tree, he bounced and rolled onto a large brush, which in turn refused to support his weight and collapsed sideways to deposit him into a pool of crystal clear water.
Almost unconscious, and now with his shoulder wracked with pain, the sudden emersion revived René enough to splash his way to finding he could stand above the water line. Looking about, he found himself in what seemed to be a tropical paradise. His first thought was for his horse, but how could he find Kowi here; more importantly, where was here?
All around was a dense jungle, at one end of this immense pool was a sixty to seventy feet high water-fall. Into the water, a brilliant sun reflected the light of a rainbow. Where he stood, the water was above waist deep and something on the pool floor glittered.
Confounded, René looked up to see no mountains close by. Nor did he see any sign of the fiendish creatures. The sparkle under the water took his curiosity for a moment. Ducking down, he picked up a piece of the glittering rock and came up with it. His breath caught as he gazed at what must be a nugget of purest gold, a gold which had a touch of the rainbow in it.
Taking a sip of the water, it was sweet; not to cold, but refreshing. Still, René decided to get out of the water. There was no telling what might be alive in there. And again, where was here?
Crawling out upon what seemed to be the end of a game trail, he looked about and tried to get a fix on his dilemma. He could fret later, first he had to determine his assets. Survival would not be a problem; he had a small knife, some arrows and his bow, and he always carried a possible pouch slung around his shoulder. So named because you never knew what you might possibly need when you least expect it.
Then from far away, he heard the wailing sounds of Banshee Canyon. ‘Where?’ he thought. ‘Am I hallucinatin’, am I really bein’ eaten alive and just don’t know it?’ But the pain in his shoulder convinced him he wasn’t.
Following the sound with his ear, René found the game trail went in that direction, at least part way. Cautiously, he began to go at a slow run. Sure, he was about washed out and his whole body was wracked with pain, but he still had a job to do and he refused to quit.
Rounding a bend he looked into a clearing which met with what seemed to be the same blurry, heat waving mist. And it was moving slowly his way.
‘Shael’s!’
In the forest several rods away, René caught a glimpse of an over grown ruin, a stone house of some sort, long unused. He was about to turn and run away from the advancing mist when he thought he saw a figure moving through the murk, a familiar figure, Kowi!
Carefully, he made his way up to the stallion, which seemed to already recognize him.
René took the bridle and caressed Kowi’s head, rubbed his ears and pressed their foreheads together.
Caution was in René’s mind, but he also needed to make sure his horse was alright.
“Are you alright, old dad? How did you get here, of all places?” he asked as he quickly ran his hands over Kowi’s body.
Excitement at finding his mount merged into curiosity, which turned to confusion and puzzlement. René found several scratches, two bite marks and an indistinguishable claw mark on Kowi’s body. None which matched wounds possibly gained from the fiends they had just encountered, and all of varying degrees of healing.
The worst, the claw mark, looked to be several days old and healing nicely. Kowi also seemed to be well fed, watered, rested and in overall good condition. What was going on here?
All of this was done in a matter of seconds. Having observed Kowi’s walk was fine, a fast check of his legs revealed no damage there. Thankfully, René had not secured the reins to the saddle; also the reins had not fallen over Kowi’s head when he must have watered and fed, this in itself had René perplexed. It was something he would have to wonder about at another time. René would have to check under the hooves later. First they had to get out of here.
A breeze moved their way and Kowi caught it just a moment before René, the smell of a big cat. Kowi became immediately agitated and René quickly vaulted into the saddle.
He could take time to hurt later, but where to go?
Once more, from somewhere inside the blurry mist the sounds of Banshee Canyon could be heard.
At that moment, a snarl came from the brush and Kowi made their mind up for them. The stallion bolted into the mist in full flight and for a moment everything was once more disorienting. The ground was jungle floor at first, then became sand. René was sure he heard the sound of water crashing on a shoreline and he smelled salt air. Something splashed beside them and he tasted what had to be ocean water. Off in the mist he could have sworn he saw some kind of tower with a light shining at the top, and what was that far off to the right … a large brick house in the mist with white columns? Again, from their front, the sounds of Banshee Canyon …
The ground turned to a sloppy mud, and then rock; they were lost in the mist and Kowi reared up, bugling his own alarm.
“Focus on those sounds, René; follow the Banshee Wail,” he told himself; but where were they, which way to turn? From behind them he could sense they were being chased.
Over there! Through the blur René thought he could see a rock formation amidst a spot of clarity. Hard and fast they rode for the rapidly closing hole leading into what he hoped was their own reality.
From the dry, mind numbing mist they found themselves running headlong onto the trail around Banshee Canyon. Out from one existence and into another, they were straightway met with a numbing wind and the screams of the canyon’s soul.
Still wet, the cold took René’s breath away and he shivered violently.
They had re-entered the trail at a dead run where it was no more than six feet across, and the drop off to the left side was perhaps hundreds of feet down into death. This speed was not a good idea, but a quick look behind showed they were not alone.
René saw the biggest cat he had ever seen. It had long fangs perhaps eight or nine inches long, and it was slowly gaining.
There was nothing more or less of it. They were in a race for their lives. It was now up to Kowi as René settled in like a jockey and rode for the finish.
Having no idea how far along the trail they were, René did not know how far they would have to run before, and if even he could, get to a position where he could use his bow.
Relentlessly, the Saber Tooth Tiger closed the distance inch by inch as Kowi ran his heart out around the deadly canyon trail. The winds howled, thunder rolled and it seemed for a moment the ground itself was about to shudder.
René had never heard of a cat to run so far at such a speed, and although anxious for himself and his partner, he couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of the beast pursuing them. A quick glance behind, then around a right hand turn and René’s heart seemed to drop from his chest.
In front of them the trail was gone, completely broken away from a past slide. Behind them was certain death, to the side a drop into nothing. The only chance they had was to try jumping the chasm in front of them. There was no hesitation as René knew Kowi saw it too. Leaning in to the stallion’s ear René called out, “Let’s go dad!”
The hungry beast was within leaping distance as Kowi charged the trail’s edge and leaped as the horse made his fateful jump. Into the expanse and seeing the drop below, René swore the jump took forever to travel the distance. Just barely hitting the edge and scrambling over, the rock broke as the cat touched down not ten feet behind them. A few rods around a turn and again Kowi had to jump a gap in the broken trail. A quick look back showed the tiger closer still.
Kowi stumbled and slid, the cat tried to lunge and rake at the fleeing horse and just barely left claw marks on it’s hindquarters. Once more Kowi jumped an expanse, an expanse the cat almost missed. Kowi managed to land with sure footing, but as the cat’s front paws touched the edge of the broken trail, the mountain rumbled as the rocky lip began to collapse; the cat’s screams could be heard as it fell to its death far below as with each step the rock beneath Kowi’s feet gave way.
Harder and harder the stallion worked to stay ahead of the disintegrating ledge until a whole section cracked, tilting back at a dangerous cant. Horse and rider both began sliding slowly toward the expanse. René felt Kowi losing groundd and vaulted over his head keeping hold of the reins.
“No … You … DON’T!” He yelled in agony, as he tried with all desperation to gain a brace for his feet among the jagged rock. Both slid more until the slab broke again, and René’s feet found purchase. How much he could help, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t letting Kowi go.
René cried against the pain in his shoulder, the frozen state of his body and a fever he now was feeling in the scratches of his torso, “You can do it. C’mon, Kowi. You an’ me …”
Not knowing how much more he could take, René leaned into his hold on the reins when the rock broke again. Kowi somehow found a step hold and clambered up and over, but in the process stepping accidentally on René.
René felt the ribs go the moment Kowi’s weight landed on him, but it was the leg that scared him most. When the back hoof came down on René’s thigh he heard a loud popping sound that sent a shock-wave through his body and sickened him instantly.
As Kowi stepped off of him, the rock broke again and René felt himself slide, the top of his bow catching on a jagged outcropping. Sliding downward, René fought hard against panic and grabbed the bow with his good, left hand and felt most of the rock beneath him fall.
‘The bow,’ he reflected, ‘unbreakable string. This definitely was the time for that wizard to be right.’
For what seemed an eternity René hung there. Feeling his left hand starting to slip, he focused on one thought and one thought alone, ‘the mission.’
‘I must complete my mission.’
With Herculean effort, he found the strength to slowly climb up and grab hold on seemingly stable rock. Praying there would be no more breakage, he edged himself up. Using the bow as a crutch he tried to stand and became sick. The left leg wasn’t working and he could feel bone move where it shouldn’t. And the pain in his chest, it was so hard to breathe. He coughed and spat up blood. ‘Don’t look at it,’ he thought.
‘The mission …’
Kowi had only gone a few feet beyond the edge and was waiting for him.
How to get on? René saw a small outcropping. If he could only climb that little bit and get up. Twice he tried to make the small climb, almost blacking out.
‘The mission …’
How he got onto Kowi’s back, he couldn’t remember. But he did and René let the stallion have his head, holding his bow in his right hand.
His blade, he would really miss that short blade. René had hand carved the grip himself. On each side was the caricature of a Ponshiu, and he had taken pride in keeping it razor sharp.
A half mile along, they rounded a turn and in the path before them, a scant twenty rods away, was a skinny, hairy looking creature looking right at them. Its eyes were large, and the face reminded René of what he had heard a baboon looks like.
This had to be a Cautra Beast, said to be an undead with a voice that could turn your heart to stone.
René coughed up more blood and felt the bones grating in his chest. Looking through hawkish eyes he muttered to himself and Kowi, “You’ve got to be kiddin’?”
The creature crouched low and widened its eyes, then drew back its head and inhaled deeply as it prepared to scream.
Chapter 27
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NINETEEN YEAR OLD Corporal Whitney had been elated when Major Wadsworth invited him to join his settlement team. The Battle at Hatchapeik had just been won, ending the Camphry War and solidifying Colonel Hoscoe Val’Ihrus’s rise to general.
Rather than accept a definite promotion to Lt. Colonel, Wadsworth opted to take early retirement and venture south to tame a piece of land. Talk and plans had been going on for a hundred years to develop a more direct trade route from Dahruban to N’Ville, but it looked like work would actually be getting started in the Tremount Region.
Not once had Whitney regretted his decision to go. The work had been hard and fighting often bloody, but they now had the only secure location between Charlamae and Kynear, a good stretch of country indeed. And Kynear wasn’t exactly the best fortified location one would hope for, at least that was Whitney’s opinion.
Wadsworth Keep had been well built, surrounded by a curtain wall of stone, fortified by towers and they maintained the most state of the art weaponry in existence. Within the walls was a draw well, a piece of ground where the cook grew vegetables and they even kept a fulltime cleric. Not just a religious sort, but one of those Priests of Ehl’Rohlahn who can actually heal you.
Whitney had raised his eight children here, buried two of them here, and had made a career he could be proud of.
Scouting had been Whitney’s position in the Dahruban Army, now he was chief of the guard. And he took pride in taking regular watches himself.
At his age, a lot of men were complaining about their eyes going bad, but not Whitney. He held the keep’s heavy crossbow shooting record and still beat them all at every match. The word was he could recognize any face he knew from a distance, when others would have to use a spyglass.
It was for this reason he made it a point to regularly assign himself watches on the night roster. The missus didn’t like it, but times were looking bad. More than just the brigands and mountain races causing trouble, there was talk of something else, something potentially much more dangerous.
For a long time there had been talk of the Great Alignment coming in the next few years. And if you were a temple goer, some religions were talking about the end of the world. Cults of Set, Isis, Chogiu, Phalquas and Loki were gaining footholds and growing again, some of these after having been nearly dead for centuries. The Eayahnite religion was even claiming there was to be a great war of conquest.