by Cero Tsaonni
his mind drifting away. But as his visuals drooped in line with the pelt he suddenly remembered Zoe, forcing himself to shake out the cobwebs and snap out of the ensnaring trance. Forcing a smile, he responded,
"It appears you come the way of Riverstein Forest. Did you happen to come across a young girl in your travels? She is lost and no more than 10-years-old- " He pointed towards Cara. "-She bears a striking resemblance to her mother."
Zachary's nostrils flared in anticipation of conflict. Sensing Cantos's warrior spirit stirred up something within his own, and he became incensed. His right hand gripped the hilt of the deadly scimitar-ready to draw at a moments notice! But there was something else Zachary felt that exceeded his anger-something he knew Cantos perceived within him that stirred up a contrasting feeling of utter distress.
Cantos replied to the tribal chief.
"Already the child had been stricken with the fever as I slew Cerebrus, and deeper into the woods she fled. I am bound by Orion's star to secure her repossession?bound to recover her alive, if possible. In exchange he requires an offering for the pelt."
Zachary suddenly sprung forward! He projected his accusation with a fearful and desperate appeal, "Schemer!" With that, he drew at the hilt of his scimitar!
TWO SHARP CUTS RANG THROUGH THE AIR.
In one moment there was a shout, but in the next the shouting ceased. Zachery's body contorted-dropped, as does a dead weight; and the bleak eternal darkness overtook him, accompanied by showers of blood. Two times the tribal chief had had to wipe the splatter from his eyes. Two times he witnessed the sudden swoop of Cantos's gigantic war-axe cutting through Zachary's heroic frame. He witnessed clearly as the first split a vicious gash just below the armpit, inflicted upon Zachary the very instant he moved to draw his scimitar. It cut deep through the ribcage-so deep it exposed the lung. The second strike he caught with his eyes just as Cantos lunged through the air and executed a swift chop through the neck-a strike as savage and as effortless as an executioner's through the neck of a man condemned. The head was severed and ounces of blood poured from the ghastly wounds of Zachery's corpse lay a slain; and a stream of crimson flowed down the scorched green forming a trail previously covered in white. It was at that very moment that the tribal chief lost his nerve. Where he once stood firm he now stood paralyzed in a horrific state of trauma-red dampness soaking through his sandals. Beyond the swift brutality of it all what terrified him the most was the site of Zachary's death grip on a weapon yet-to-be drawn. The solid warrior had been outmaneuvered and swiftly cut down as effortlessly as a whirlwind crashes through a tree. And regarding the refugees: not one of them-not even the bravest of the men-dared to step forward; and the women's lamentations were fierce.
Cantos held firm-a solid defensive stance-he scanned through the overwhelmed refugees as blood oozed from the edge of his savage war-axe:
"Silence your laments! If your warrior's accusation had held any weight, Lord knows I would simply butcher you all this instant-as I have just demonstrated is in my power-and take your gold by a cruel means!"
He broke off and lowered his axe. Then his black eyes swiveled in the direction of Jason. He released one hand from the handle, extended his index finger, and pointed out Zachary's headless corpse.
"Behold! The fate of the deserter?twice over! And culprit behind the child's abandonment to the Riverstein!"
Pain and anguish overtook them all now. Cara, specifically, dropped to her knees, wailing. Struck with the truth of Cantos's words, she damned Zachary to hell and then cursed the heavens for having given him life. Her obscenities soon rang in the direction of the tribal chief, and she began to curse at his feet for having entrusted Zachary the Treacherous with protecting their sacred band.
But Jason-Cantos's gaze had ensnared him. It appeared that something else was being revealed to him through those cryptic black eyes, dark as coal. He alone of the refugees refrained from shedding tears-he and the tribal chief: a man still traumatized over the horror of this dreadful occurrence. He responded to Cantos's demands, "We have very little gold, my lord?"
"Whatever you have will suffice. And in fulfillment of the contract I guide you through the Riverstein, delivering you to your salvation."
And the tribal chief choked before mumbling something unintelligible out loud; and he nodded in acceptance of Cantos's contract.
Cantos then flung the blood from his axe with a quick swoosh through the air; re-holstered it before shoving Zachary's head in a bag and tying it to his waist-a gift for the Nyphlice Army. He departed without further response.
The tribal chief only gazed out towards nothingness as Cantos traversed back towards Riverstein forest, less than a mile away. He again, thought something out loud. This time it was audible:
He declared Cantos a demigod.
And Jason approached him from behind, resting a hand upon his shoulder, but said nothing. Startled, the tribal chief turned his head, noticing that Jason looked as if Cantos-through those black eyes-had revealed something more to him; but before he could inquire Jason spake, "Sir. Cantos-he spoke to me?" But Jason paused without revealing of what he had spoketh.
"Tell me?"
"Solomon's?famed General-Shin Yuu. His army has been defeated by Vincent Perelli." He paused once again, then continued, "They retreat to the north-aiming to occupy the Elm City by tomorrow's dawn."
And Cara, still in tears, cried out, "Then we are walled in!"
And the tribal chief found himself inquiring to the heavens.
"Dear Lord, what have I led us into?" And he knew then that he had made a grave mistake by not defending his homeland.
Then Jeffrey, one of the braver refugees, and brother of the tribal king through marriage, approached-and though he appeared white as a ghost,
"Can we survive if we give up what little gold we have left?"
And the dispirited tribal chief-whose name has been lost in history-with sunken eyes-and his words trailing further off to the north, replied thus, "I don't think he was willing to present to us any other option?"
And the snow gave way to a steady blizzard.