Looking around frantically, Jonas was praying for a miracle. He looked up and got an idea. Quickly he unlaced his snow shoes; quietly strapping the bow to his back he began to climb a large pine tree, holding his breath as he tried to be silent. He pulled himself up to a height of about ten paces. Taking up his bow he re-nocked an arrow, aiming through a hole in the branches. He could clearly make out the beast that was about eighty paces away. It was a long shot but the ogre was huge and Jonas knew that he wouldn’t miss its broad back.
He aimed at the center of the ogre’s torso and slowed his breathing down, his nerves causing his bow arm to shake and threatening his aim. He closed his eyes and thought of his friend that might be in that cave. Focusing on his rapid heartbeat he concentrated on its rhythm. Taking deep slow breaths the beating of his heart began to slow.
After he calmed himself, he opened his eyes, sighted in the beast, let out a slow breath, and released the shaft with a twang. Quickly he nocked another and before the other arrow hit its mark he already had the second arrow flying through the air. The first arrow struck the beast in its lower back. The ogre bellowed with pain, turning around to take the next arrow right in the hip. Again the beast roared and looked around for its assailant.
Jonas could see that the arrows did not sink in deep, the monster’s thick skin and the dirty furs that clothed him served as protection. The beast lumbered through the snow closer to his tree, searching and sniffing the air for its attacker. Jonas could clearly see the beast’s eyes blazing with anger as it roared defiantly into the woods.
Jonas’s heart resumed its rapid beat and his arms trembled with fear, but he could do nothing else but draw back his bow again and let a shaft fly. This time the ogre saw the movement and looked up in the tree just as the arrow slammed into the side of its neck. Unlike the first two arrows, this arrow sunk in deep, halfway to its fletching, and the ogre stumbled backwards in pain.
Just then Fil came running out of the cave mouth holding his spear out before him, his eyes bulging with fright as he saw the ogre stumbling in the snow not more than thirty paces from him.
“Fil, I’m coming!” yelled Jonas as the ogre turned to face Fil. Jonas quickly began to climb down the tree, dropping the last few paces and landing heavily in the snow, his feet sinking in deep. He grabbed his bow, nocked another arrow and stumbled through the deep snow to get to the clearing by the ogre.
The monster grabbed the shaft sticking from its throat and yanked out the arrow. Blood poured from the wound and the ogre roared in pain as it turned from Fil to face Jonas again. The beast’s eyes narrowed in anger and it charged the little human who had caused him so much pain.
Fil took in the scene quickly and did the only thing that he could do. He ran after the enraged monster with his spear point leading the way, screaming in defiance hoping to distract the monster from its charge. It didn’t work and Fil knew that he wouldn’t reach Jonas in time before the behemoth ran him over and crushed him into the snow.
Jonas stopped in fright, the roaring ogre bearing down on him with incredible speed. Its huge legs pounded through the snow and Jonas felt each step reverberate through his paralyzed body. The thing looked big from the tree, but now its massive size was almost overwhelming. He knew he would be easily crushed. Jonas’s fear filled eyes were drawn to the huge tree trunk club that swung easily in its meaty hand.
That thought finally broke through his fear. He dropped to his knee, bending the great bow back as far as he could and taking careful aim. He knew he would only have one shot before the ogre’s massive tree club crushed him to oblivion.
Strangely, Jonas’s mind calmed and everything seemed to slow down. He breathed slowly, took aim, and waited until the beast was ten paces away before he let the shaft fly. Jonas dropped the bow, unsheathing his hunting knife as the black shaft pierced the charging monster’s open mouth.
The ogre’s roar was cut short, its head snapping back violently. The behemoth stopped about six paces from Jonas, dropped its huge club to the snow, and grasped for the shaft in its mouth. Jonas could just make out the feathered end sticking several inches beyond its sharp fangs. The creature stumbled around and then it clamped its mouth shut, snapping off the end of the arrow. Its eyes bulged, a look of pain and confusion crossing its face.
Suddenly its back arched and the ogre let out a gurgling roar, turning around and blindly swinging its huge arms at its attacker. Jonas saw Fil yank his spear from the ogre’s back, leaping out of the way of the flailing monster and its powerful arms.
Fil and Jonas both circled the ogre as the monster stumbled around in pain. Finally the creature fell to its knees, its eyes rolled back in its head, and the ogre crashed face first into the snow.
Fil and Jonas both looked at each other, their eyes wide with shock and fear, their weapons held out defensively in front of them.
“Is it dead?” asked Jonas, his voice shaking with fright now that the danger seemed to be over.
“I think so,” replied Fil as he neared the ogre. Fil unsheathed his hunting knife and slowly stepped up near the ogre’s head, which was as big as Fil’s torso. Fil kicked the beast hard in the head to make sure. Then he slid the sharp blade under its neck and slit the beast’s throat. Blood poured from the wound, soaking into the white snow. “He is now,” Fil said as he wiped off the blade on the ogre’s fur cloak.
Jonas sat down in the snow, suddenly exhausted. “Is that an ogre?” he asked.
“I believe it is. I’ve never seen one myself but I’ve heard descriptions,” answered Fil as he sat down in the snow next to Jonas. “Well done, Jonas. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead. Thank you,” stated Fil sincerely.
Jonas looked at Fil, his face ashen with fright as he tried to calm his nerves.
“It was nothing. You would’ve done the same.”
“I mean it. You saved my life,” Fil said again.
“It was a lucky shot.”
“I don’t think so. Like I said, you’re skilled with a bow,” replied Fil.
Jonas absently stroked the wood bow, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline pumping through his system. “If I didn’t have your bow then I think we’d both be dead.”
“You’re probably right,” Fil agreed.
They both sat in silence for a while, taking in what could have happened.
Fil finally got up and placed his hand on Jonas’s shoulder. “You know, not many warriors can claim that they’ve killed an ogre by themselves.”
Jonas looked up and smiled. “You stabbed him with your spear. I didn’t kill it alone,” he replied.
“Yes you did. That shaft in its mouth killed it. I think it just took a while for the stupid monster to know that it was dead.”
Jonas got to his feet picking up the bow. “Well, we make a good team anyway,” he replied. Fil smiled, picking up his spear from the snow.
“Yes we do,” Fil replied as they made their way toward the cave mouth.
“Guess what?” asked Jonas.
“What?”
“I killed my first deer today,” Jonas proudly announced.
“Now we can call you, Jonas, the ogre and deer slayer,” Fil joked. They nervously laughed together as they entered the warm cave, both knowing how close they had just come to dying.
***
It took about six weeks for the winter snows to subside and the first signs of spring to appear. The ice and snow began to melt as the temperature warmed. The forest was a bustle of activity as the many animals took joy in the warm sun. Chirping birds flittered from tree to tree while busy chipmunks ran across the forest floor digging and foraging for food.
Although the boys dreaded the thought of returning to their destroyed town, they knew they had to go back into Manson and gather whatever supplies they could find. They needed new clothes, shoes, blankets, and as much food as they could carry. They wanted a second bow and more arrows as well. Then they would start their long trek to Finarth.
Fil was apprehensiv
e about the journey, and though Jonas was also reluctant to return to Manson, he was also excited for the adventure, for the chance to use his body and muscles, and for the chance to find out more answers about his God Mark. On several occasions Fil and Jonas had discussed the night when the ogre had attacked them. They both agreed that something or someone had warned Jonas that the ogre was near. How else could they explain the burning pain on his chest and the images that flashed in his mind? The question was, why were the gods getting involved in their lives? For two small town boys, the thought was overwhelming and a bit unsettling.
***
Manson was as bad as they thought it would be. Patches of snow still covered the ground, but not enough to blanket the many bodies still remaining. It was obvious to them both that animals and other scavengers had taken full advantage of the hundreds of corpses that were left behind. The bodies that had not been taken away by boargs or other larger animals showed signs typical of being in the elements for an entire winter. Luckily the smell was not as bad as it could have been as the temperature was still below freezing for most of the day.
Jonas did not enter Gorum’s home. He did not want to see the body of his mother, especially if she had been eaten by winter scavengers. He wanted to remember her as she was, not how she died, and he knew that if he saw her torn and dismembered body that that image would forever be imprinted in his mind. So he avoided the home, as did Fil his own, and they both quickly performed their tasks and departed the town.
After the short re-supply trip to Manson, they began their sojourn east. They pushed themselves hard the first day, eager to get as far away from the town as they could, to distance themselves from the memories of that horrible night. The sun had set and the golden rays of warmth had long dropped behind the tall pine trees, leaving the mountain trail bathed in the cold shadows of dusk. Jonas and Fil set up camp in a clearing just off the trading road. It was still cold and patches of snow decorated the landscape.
“Should we light a fire?” asked Fil, leaning his pack against a fallen log and stretching his sore back.
“Some warm oats would do us well right now,” responded Jonas. He, too, took off his pack and looked at Fil, hoping that he would make the decision on whether or not to light a fire. It was always a risk to light a fire at night. They both knew it, but the desire for warm food after a long hard hike began to overcome their caution.
Fil shrugged his shoulders as he dug in his pack for his tinderbox. “Let’s light a brief fire, cook our oats, and then we’ll put it out.”
“Good plan,” Jonas agreed. He quickly started a small hot fire while Fil prepared the meal of oats and salt. The food was good and they washed it down with cold mountain water. The oats warmed their bellies and they leaned back against a log and relaxed. The icy fingers of night were creeping into the clearing, leaving them in complete darkness except for the small amount of light radiating from the glowing red coals left over from their fire.
“Should we douse the coals?” asked Jonas.
“No, the light is nice, not to mention the warmth. The light is minimal. I think it is fine,” answered Fil, pulling his traveling cloak over his shoulders. Jonas shivered, wrapping his wool cloak around him tightly, hoping to keep the chilling cold away.
They sat in silence for a few moments before Jonas finally spoke. “Fil, will you tell me how my mother died?” Jonas had never worked up the courage to ask Fil about what he saw that dreadful night. He didn’t think he could take it, but now he was stronger, and he wanted to know. He wanted to know how she suffered so he would never forget her. The news would be hard to hear, but he was prepared for that.
Fil glanced up and Jonas could just make out the reluctance in his eyes under the faint glow of the coals. “Are you sure, Jonas…you really want to know?”
“I do. Please tell me what you saw.”
Fil hesitated. “Okay, but it will not be easy to hear.”
“I need to know,” was all Jonas said.
Fil sighed. “I will tell you what I saw.” He took a deep breath. “The battle was not going well. Everywhere the townspeople were being killed. The boargs were unstoppable. The cavalier had left to fight the Banthra and he gave orders to Gorum to get as many people to safety as he could. So I followed Gorum to his home where I assumed he was gathering up you and your mother. Instead I find a boarg feeding on his remains. I remember feeling so much anger. It all just exploded out when I saw what the boarg had done to Gorum. I went berserk and stabbed it in the back with my spear. The beast jerked away from me and I couldn’t remove my spear. It was injured, but it was not dead. The thing’s jaw was badly damaged, probably by Gorum, and my spear had pierced its back deeply, but it still came at me. I grabbed Gorum’s sword on the ground and swung at its neck as hard as I could. That finally killed the thing.” Fil paused for a minute to look at Jonas skeptically. “You sure you want to hear the rest?”
“Yes, please, Fil. I want to know,” Jonas responded, his eyes wide with emotion.
“Okay,” Fil whispered. “It was then that I heard a noise against the wall near Gorum. It was your mother. She was partly covered by a dead boarg, and I rushed to her side. She held a bloody knife in her hand. The boarg’s throat had been cut. She had killed it but she was beyond any help. Her throat had been cut open by the boarg’s talons.”
Fil stopped for a moment as Jonas wiped tears from his eyes. “Was she alive? Did she say anything?” Jonas asked, his voice catching in his throat.
“Yes, she was barely alive. With her last strength she grabbed my wrist and told me where you were hiding, and made me promise to take care of you. She was not in pain Jonas, she was just thinking of you,” Fil said lamely in an attempt to lessen Jonas’s grief.
There was silence for a few moments as Jonas regained his composure, wiping the remaining tears from his face. “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad that you did.”
Suddenly a low growl emanated from the darkness not too far behind them. Jonas’s body went rigid. He reached for his recently claimed short sword lying next to him. Fil reacted similarly, grabbing his spear. They were both up and facing the forest behind them, their weapons held before them in shaking hands.
“What was that?” whispered Jonas.
“It sounded like a boarg,” replied Fil, grasping his spear tightly. His voice was dripping with fear but his stance was firm as his wide eyes scanned the darkness.
Just then, another growl came from behind them. Jonas spun to face the darkness holding his sword protectively before him. They were back to back, the darkness of the night sucking away the light as the red embers slowly died. They said nothing, too afraid to talk, and not sure what to say anyway.
Suddenly a loud roar erupted from the darkness followed by a gray shape flying through the air towards Fil. He leaped to the side, jabbing his spear at the attacking boarg. The spear tip hit the beast in the side as the huge beast scattered the remaining coals. The boarg howled in pain as it gripped Fil’s spear, snapping it like a twig.
Jonas rolled out of the way of the boarg to come up standing in darkness. Thankfully the moon was out and its bluish glow lightly blanketed the area. It was not much, but it was enough to barely illuminate a second boarg barreling towards him like a charging bull.
Jonas got his sword up just as the beast hit him with tremendous force, launching him through the air. He landed hard on his back. The air whooshed from his lungs as he struggled to get up. Miraculously he had managed to hold onto his sword, raising it in defense against the rushing boarg.
But he was not fast enough. The boarg lashed out with one of its large clawed hands, and Jonas, scurrying on his back, fought frantically with his sword, cutting the beast across the arm. The animal roared, and with lightning speed, used its other arm to grab Jonas’s neck. The boarg’s strong claws began to crush his throat. The pain intensified as the boarg squeezed, lifting Jonas into the air. He felt himself grow weaker but he still managed to swing his sword down toward the
boarg’s arms. The boarg batted the weapon away with its other hand. Jonas felt his neck tighten as his airway was slowly choked off. His eyes began to blur and his head swam from dizziness as the boarg brought him closer to its open mouth.
Fil dropped the broken spear and drew his short sword from the sheath at his hip. He was just able to raise the blade as the boarg swung its clawed hand towards his chest. Stumbling backwards Fil chopped his sword down in a powerful swing, cutting the beast deeply across its forearm. But the animal continued its attack unfazed. The boarg roared, lashing out with its other hand, four sharp claws slicing shallow cuts across Fil’s chest as he leaned back from the attack. He stumbled further backwards, frantically trying to evade the animal’s deadly claws.
Jonas struggled and kicked, trying to free himself from the boarg’s iron grip. He managed to grab onto the animals thick hairy forearm with both hands and dug in his fingernails, hoping to break the beasts hold on him, but his efforts were to no avail. The animal kept squeezing and Jonas’s vision swam even further as his oxygen depleted brain began to shut down.
Suddenly, the grip loosened, and as Jonas gasped for air, his vision cleared. The boarg had dropped him to the ground. Howling in pain, the angry beast spun around towards the darkness. Jonas, lying on his back and holding his injured throat, could clearly see two white feathered arrows embedded in the boarg’s muscled back.
Out of the darkness, came a large fur covered body. In the grayness of night it looked like another boarg, but it wasn’t. The form materialized out of the darkness and moved toward the boarg with amazing speed, moonlight reflecting off a glimmering blade. The injured boarg lashed out with a clawed hand but the newcomer quickly ducked under the swing, slicing his glowing blade across the beast’s abdomen. Then the savior raced past the dying beast without a second look. Jonas couldn’t tell if the warrior’s sword was actually glowing or if it was just the reflection of the moonlight off the blade’s mirror like finish.
The Cavalier Page 9