Tribe Master 3: A Fantasy Harem Adventure

by Noah Layton

  If I had said it out loud, it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference. The leaf had knocked everybody out cold – everybody except for one.

  I set my blanket aside and took up my sword, sheathing it at my side as I headed across the platforms in search of Ralos. His shift was up, and it was time for my own to begin in the final hour before we left for the bridge.

  I heard him before I saw him. A low, humming sound too constant to be something that wasn’t sentient was moving through the nearby trees.

  On the far side of the outpost I found him. He was sat cross-legged at the edge of the far platform, looking out over the forest below.

  As I rounded to the side, keeping a distance from him, I found that he wasn’t surveying the landscape. His eyes were closed, and after a few long moments of stillness he leaned forwards and bowed down, his spine curving unnaturally, painfully.

  He was meditating, or praying. I couldn’t tell.

  Either way it was a private moment, and even if we hadn’t gotten along brilliantly so far, I wasn’t going to interrupt and make things worse.

  I moved to go, but after a single step-

  ‘Your shift begins shortly, tribe master.’

  I turned back around. Ralos was still static where he was.

  ‘I didn’t want to interrupt,’ I said. ‘Just looked… Personal. Not for me to get in the way of peace, especially in a time like this.’

  ‘I have never felt at peace. Not since I learned of my father’s approaching demise.’

  Ralos shifted from his seated position, sitting himself at the edge of the platform and bringing up his inventory. Considering it was his own I couldn’t know what he was producing from it, but the moment he closed the window, a pair of cigars appeared in his hand. They were rudimentary and messily structured, but that was definitely what they were.

  ‘Care for one?’

  ‘I don’t smoke.’

  ‘Neither do I, but we are here. And, as you say, these are dangerous times.’

  I looked over my shoulder towards the area where my wives and the guards were sleeping, not because of their disapproval of my smoking – I doubted that either of them would give a shit – but to make sure that there was no sign of any intruders.

  We were safe, at least for now.

  I sat down next to Ralos, my legs dangling over the edge of the platform. A single jump and I would plummet to my death.

  Ralos handed me a cigar, then lit both mine and his promptly with a flint and tinder. Difficult in my world, but he had the task completed in seconds.

  I had smoked at weddings with best men and at New Year’s parties an age ago; I didn’t cough as a result, and knew how to hold it in.

  It tasted just like tobacco.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?’ I said. ‘We’re out of here in an hour.’

  ‘Praying suffices for the time being.’

  ‘You’re a religious man?’

  ‘Are we not all in our own ways?’

  ‘I don’t know if I’d call myself religious,’ I replied. ‘Considering what’s happened to me… This could be heaven. Or hell, I’m not sure.’

  ‘Heaven and hell?’ Ralos replied inquisitively. ‘Those are words I do not know.’

  ‘Heaven is the good place. Hell is the bad place. You go to one when you die, depending on the kind of person you are when you’re alive.’

  ‘And what are the criteria for each?’

  ‘I thought that would be obvious.’

  ‘Different tribes possess different morals, different definitions of what is good and what is bad, as you say.’

  ‘Where I’m from…’ I started, choosing my words carefully, ‘There are a lot of different lands and a lot of different religions. They all have different definitions.’

  ‘Ah, I see. That is likely the very reason that so many fear higher powers in the first place though, no?’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Because they are afraid of what happens to them after their minds die.’

  I inhaled from the cigar and puffed it out into the forest.

  ‘Maybe. That is the question, though, isn’t it?’

  ‘That is indeed the question, human,’ Ralos replied, cracking a smile.

  ‘So who do you pray to you? If you don’t mind me asking.’

  ‘No one.’

  ‘No one? Doesn’t that defeat the point of praying?’

  ‘I do not pray to the gods. The practice is somewhat common among sun-elves, but I am not one of them. I pray to the land around me. I pray to this world, and for its vast occurrences to allow me to achieve what I wish to achieve.’

  ‘Does it work?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ Ralos laughed lightly. ‘Sometimes not.’

  I paused, thinking for a moment.

  ‘That phrase that the wood-elf said,’ I continued. ‘Zagor? One of your men said that it was the name of a demi-god. Do the wood-elves really worship him?’

  Ralos’s smile fell away quickly. He took a long pause.

  ‘You stated that there are many religions in the land that you come from, yes?’ Ralos finally replied. ‘Well, this land is very similar. Some worship the 19 old gods and the many stories that came about from them. Others worship nothing. But the more feral tribes worship other beings… Ones that used to walk upon this land, but are now lost…’

  ‘Other beings? What kind of other beings?’

  ‘I suppose that you could call them… Monsters. The legends say that thousands of years ago they once walked the land, hulking high above the trees. They are not gods – they cannot create. They can only destroy, and they do so.’

  ‘They have a criteria for that, too?’

  ‘I think not.’ Ralos forced a smirk.

  ‘You said… Cannot create.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I’ve been talking to members of your family for the past 24 hours. I might jump the gun and say things that I regret sometimes, but you sun-elves watch every single word that comes out of your mouths, even when you get angry. And you said cannot create, as in right now. Do you… You don’t believe in these things, do you?’

  Ralos went to take another puff from his cigar but stopped, instead taking a breath of forest air. He turned to look over his shoulder back at the sleeping area and, seeing that it was quiet, continued.

  ‘Have you ever met a beast of the forest? Not the small wolves, or the vicious hogs, but the larger kind?’

  ‘Just one. A mother wolf, big enough to swallow me whole. We killed her a few weeks ago after she attacked our land.’

  ‘That was you? The wolf’s head at the trading post north of here?’

  ‘It was.’

  Ralos smiled widely, genuinely, for the first time since I had met him. He offered a hand, which I shook.

  ‘Impressive work, I must say.’

  ‘Thank you. Why did you ask?’

  Solemnness crept back onto his face.

  ‘A long time ago, when I was younger, before the weight of our small tribe fell upon my shoulders, I was exploring the forest miles from our land. I did not think much of the stories, and played freely.

  ‘I was in this clearing when I fell through a hollow in the Earth. Down there I saw something, a gigantic creature in the darkness. Its eyes burned red. I never told my family about it, not even my father. He knew something had happened, but did not dwell on asking me. I think perhaps he thought it would make me into a man.

  ‘But I know what I saw down there. I saw one of the ancient creatures. The ones that used to walk the earth, but now lurk below the land.’

  I knew what he spoke of. I had talked with my wives about it in the past.

  ‘You’re not… You’re not saying these things are real, are you?’

  ‘I am saying that I believe in what my eyes can see. Perhaps the old gods exist, and if they do they do not walk the land – they exist in the air that we breathe, in the trees and in the water. But the broken beings that dwell in this land, t
hat hide beneath it in the darkness… One of those I have seen. And when our women are captured, and a wood-elf’s dying breath is to utter the name of an ancient demigod, yes, it does make me worried for my sister… And for your wife.’

  ‘And this Zagor? What is he, exactly?’

  ‘An ancient, winged being, with fire-red eyes and smouldering wings. He possesses great strength, enough to shake the land to its core, taking sacrifices from those of us who dare to get close enough to him.’

  ‘You think he’s who you saw?’

  ‘I don’t know which of the beings I saw. But I know that it is this infernal being that the wood-elves worship, and if they know that Zagor seeks sacrifices, it does not bode well for our lost women.’

  A chill ran up my spine. Every effort I had made to set my mind to something else had failed, because of the one common truth.

  I didn’t give a shit about sleep or any form of self-preservation anymore. I needed to rescue my wife.

  ‘Sunset in an hour,’ I said. ‘By the time we trek the few miles to the bridge it’ll be dark.’

  Ralos shot me a flat look and nodded in agreement.

  We snubbed out our cigars and stood, heading back to the sleeping area to wake our companions.

  We had set aside our differences. The guy was all right.

  Chapter Eleven

  Climbing to the treetop lookout post had been a dangerous enough job, but descending was much worse. With our weight pressing down against each branch as we dropped down from foothold to foothold, there was all the more chance that they would snap with the force.

  Wood creaked and occasionally began to splinter but after a few minutes of precarious descent we arrived back on the forest floor and checked our provisions and weapons, finalising our plan.

  We were heading onto the most dangerous part of our journey yet.

  ‘Single-file again,’ Ralos said. ‘We do not stop until we reach the bridge of Keltamir. It is our only way across, and once there we are in hostile territory that is entirely unmapped to my kind. If we face enemies, we may need to improvise. Keep your weapons at the ready, and remain together. We cannot afford to lose each other in such a dangerous place. Use any and all means to keep yourselves alive.’

  Since the beginning of our journey Ralos had taken the lead, and he did so now once again.

  We moved ahead through the early night. The foliage and shrubbery was becoming thicker now, as if we were moving somewhere that had never been walked upon by human feet for years.

  Nature had taken control of this place. It was a true wilderness, not the comparably safe one that I had known surrounding my land.

  We journeyed quietly for two miles, reacting sharply to any sound above the crunching of our feet on dried leaves.

  Just one mile from the bridge, something unpleasant came our way.

  ‘Eughh…’ Lara whispered. ‘What is that smell?’

  Lara’s senses weren’t quite as good as Ariadne’s, but as a hunter they were still adept.

  So if she could smell it from this far off, it had to be bad.

  ‘Which way?’ I asked.

  ‘Up ahead.’

  From the front Ralos pointed and nodded. We slowed again, watching our footing until the smell reached the rest of our group.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ I muttered, quelling a cough against my arm and covering my nose.

  The sun-elves had had a graceful temperament during the rest of our journey, but now they all had the same reaction.

  ‘What is that?’ Ralos asked openly.

  ‘Decay,’ I replied. ‘Something’s rotting out there, something big.’

  ‘Perhaps another wood-troll?’ One of the guards said. ‘It must have been festering for a while.’

  ‘Be on your guard,’ Ralos said.

  The smell only became worse the further we went, until the land began to dip on a slight embankment.

  The trees suddenly thinned and stopped, and our group emerged onto the edge of a large pit with sloped edges.

  Moonlight shone down into the clearing, exposing the horror that lurked within.

  Hundreds of flies buzzed among the rotting remains of different species of beasts; hogs, taurems, birds, all of which had been reduced to black and green pieces that festered around broken, jutting bone fragments.

  Moss and mould crept up the sides of the slope, as if the spread of decay was attempting to claw its way up to the world of the living.

  ‘Rot-pit,’ I said. ‘It’s where they leave the remains of dead animals.’

  ‘Such things rarely exist in the civilised areas of this land,’ Ralos said. ‘Have you spent time in the wilderness before?’

  ‘I used to go hiking with my dad in pretty remote places.’

  ‘Did you ever witness anything like that?’

  One of the guards pointed to a patch at the edge of the pit.

  He was right – it wasn’t an animal.

  A rotting human arm was sticking up out of the bloody, murky mass in the depths of the pit.

  ‘Can’t say that I did,’ I replied. ‘Let’s get past this.’

  ‘Wait…’ Elera said. ‘That’s eldermoss.’

  ‘Where?’ Ralos said sharply.

  ‘Right there.’ Elera pointed to the open hand of the rotting human, where a single-stemmed, black-petalled flower was growing from.

  ‘You are right, nymph,’ Ralos replied.

  ‘Is it important?’ I asked. ‘We need to keep moving quickly.’

  ‘The eldermoss could aid our journey when we least expect it,’ Elera said.

  ‘It is one of the rarest leaves of the forest,’ Lara whispered to me. ‘It only grows from the bones of some rotting beings. It can cure the effects of several ailments.’

  ‘And out here we never know what we may run into,’ Ralos said. ‘I will retrieve it quickly, then we can continue moving.’

  Ralos descended the slope of the pit, creeping closer to the rotting hand.

  I couldn’t fathom how bad the stench would be down there. If it was any stronger it would have formed a mist that clouded the air.

  ‘How does a person even end up down there?’ I asked.

  ‘Animals are not the only things that the wood-elves may eat,’ one of the guards said. ‘Travellers and explorers sometimes become lost out here, unaware of the dangers that lurk. To the wood-elves, those that stand on two feet are no more important than those that stand on four.’

  I searched out among the trees, scanning for movement in the darkness.

  Ralos stopped at the base of the slope, clinging onto a thick vine that jutted from the side of the pit. With his other hand he used a short, thick bladed dagger to slice carefully through the base of the stem.

  ‘Just a moment…’ He whispered.

  Silence cast itself down on the clearing.

  ‘Wait…’

  The stem snapped, and he took it back up in his hand, depositing both it and the dagger into his inventory.

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Now get yourself back up here so we can get moving.’

  ‘NYAAARRRRR!!!’

  BOOM.

  A dark figure suddenly exploded from the pit.

  We all drew our weapons instantly.

  At first I thought that it was the rotting man, that his mind was still working down there somehow, but as the arm was thrown aside and the guts and bones sprayed in every direction, another figure emerged.

  It was humanoid in shape and caked in the guts and blood that swamped down there, but in between its covered skin the flashes of green were unmistakable. They were too light to be rotten flesh.

  This was a wood-elf.

  It had been waiting, ready to ambush us.

  With a vicious scream it threw itself at Ralos, brandishing a sharpened bone.

  Ralos fell back against the side of the pit as the wood-elf threw its weight at him, stabbing the sharpened bone that he was brandishing into Ralos’s shoulder.

  They were too close to each other. None of
us had a clear shot, but we were all seeking it.

  I moved to get down there, but Ralos had control of the situation.

  Ralos screamed out, then grabbed hold of the wood-elf’s head in his hands. He pushed forwards, throwing himself onto his enemy.

  They both plunged into the festering rot of the pit, Ralos pushing the wood-elf beneath the surface of the liquid.

  Just before he did, the wood-elf let out a brutal screech that echoed through the forest.

  Ralos’s actions became feral as he pressed the wood-elf under the liquid, drowning his assailant as he fought against him.

  After delivering a few punches to the struggling wood-elf, there was a painful crunch as Ralos spun his hands around, breaking its neck.

  Ralos turned and looked up to as the silence resumed.

  I would never forget the look on his face. His eyes were filled with dread.

  ‘That sound…’ Elera said quietly. ‘Do you remember the sirens? The call they made to their kin to bring them to their aid?’

  A few seconds of precious, painful quiet followed.

  Then the screeching began.

  It was coming from behind us.

  Ralos staggered up from the pit instantly as if nothing had happened, and the six of us stood together at the edge of the pit, looking towards the screams.

  ‘Move!’ Ralos commanded, turning to I and my wives. ‘We will hold them off!’

  ‘I’m not leaving you here!’

  ‘This mission will only succeed if there is somebody alive to complete it. Now go.’

  Ralos’s voice stung. There was a vicious crack to it, filled with anger and strength.

  My wives looked back at me, waiting for my instruction. They would stay and fight by my side if I told them to – they would be loyal to me until the end.

  It was just a question of whether or not I could be loyal to Ralos’s wishes.

  He wasn’t my master, and I wasn’t his.

  The stampeding through the trees became louder. The ground rumbled.

  Ralos looked over his shoulder at me, and a vein pulsed in his brow as he laid his eyes on my face.

  ‘GO!’ He yelled. ‘Or I will kill you myself!’

  I didn’t doubt that he meant it.

  I turned to Lara and Elera and nodded to them. We set off at a sprint away from the scene, the knocking back a Potion of Haste each as we tore through the forest towards the bridge.