Nyla noticed ruins on top of the cliff behind the lake. Likely, that’s where Baal had long ago fashioned his palace.
“There it wades,” said Dagon.
Palm and lotus trees and gigantic ferns grew along the lake’s shore. The growth was thick and luxuriant, and reeds towered everywhere. The Behemoth ate from the reeds, tearing like them a monstrous ox.
Its shape was anything but ox-like, however. The Behemoth was longer than any five mammoths standing tusk to tiny tail, and it likely weighed more than ten bull mammoths combined. It had a long neck like the sea monster Dagon had slain, but the Behemoth’s neck was much thicker and grayish colored. It had a relatively small head as compared to its titanic bulk. Its tail was like a cedar tree, and its four legs were like great tree trunks, stumpy but powerful. The main body contained the majority of its weight, and the height of its hump was higher than a giant could reach.
The cave bear was like a cub beside the Behemoth. The eight-foot orn was as a mocking bird compared to a wooly rhinoceros.
Nyla had never practiced battlefield beastmastering, but she could envision the Behemoth in a battle. Surely, Gog would order a vast castle to be chained onto the Behemoth’s back. Then twenty archers could ride there, showering their shafts onto the enemy. The creature must possess an extraordinarily thick hide. Even mammoths would have to scatter before the Behemoth’s charge or they would be knocked to the ground. What chance would a phalanx of enemy spearmen have before the mighty creature?
“Is it bad-tempered?” Nyla asked.
As if the Behemoth had heard them, the great creature lifted its head from the reeds. The mouth chewed upon a hundred or more pounds of torn reeds. The neck stiffened, and the hyenas beside Ut whined fearfully. Then the reeds exploded outward from the mouth in a spraying exodus. A thunderous roar issued from the Behemoth. The sound dwarfed the loudest call from the twisted bear.
“The Behemoth is a bull,” Dagon said.
The great beast began to wade in their direction. It moved with a mammoth’s ponderous gait, but in Nyla’s estimation, it moved much too quickly for her comfort.
“Even if we could control it,” Radek said. “How could we transport it to the mainland?”
“If you’d cared to listen,” Dagon said, “you would have heard Rovians speaking about the Behemoth. They say their grandfathers remember a time when it swam in the sea and ate along the shore of the mainland.”
“Can a creature that large swim to the mainland?” Radek asked.
“None of that matters,” Nyla said. “The Behemoth sees us and it’s coming here. Do we retreat down the stairs?” she asked, glancing at Dagon.
The Nephilim regarded the Behemoth. So did Nyla.
The monstrous creature stepped onto shore. Water sluiced off its thick hide as the stumpy legs churned. It must possess bones like brass and limbs stronger than iron. The padded feet sank into the sand, and then the tail dragged across the beach, creating a large furrow.
“Are you ready, Ut?” Dagon asked.
Underneath his broad-brimmed hat, Ut paled. Blood seeped into the mummy-bandages of his right wrist. He slowly shook his head from side-to-side.
“This is the moment,” Dagon said.
Ut continued to shake his head as he watched the Behemoth.
Nyla wondered if Dagon realized that a beastmaster could not control two kinds of beasts at once. Few beastmasters could achieve Ut’s feat of mastering more than one of his creatures at a time. That was usually only possible with pack animals like hyenas or wolves. Yet even with orns—a flock bird—Radek had only been able to control one at a time. What Dagon suggested was impossible for Ut.
Then Nyla realized that Dagon understood the limitation of beastmastering. The Nephilim drew his scimitar, and with a stroke, he chopped the closest hyena in half.
Ut kept his frozen gaze on the Behemoth a moment more, long enough for Dagon to slay a second hyena. The third and fourth hyena yelped. One dashed onto the grassy plain leading to the lake. The other beast headed for the stairs, but passed too near the great bear. The cave hyena likely enticed the bear because of its fright.
Nyla’s beast snarled as it flicked one of its giant paws. The impact thudded against the hyena’s side. With a howl of woe, the hyena launched airborne, and with a meaty smack landed several steps down the stairs. The force of the blow and its speed caused the hyena to continue to roll fast, bouncing down steps. Finally, it caromed and smashed against a tree, to fall limply at the tree’s base. There it lay unmoving, most certainly dead.
The last cave hyena dashed in fright through the grass. It seemed to Nyla that the beast should have known better than to run toward the Behemoth. The hyena repeatedly glanced back at Dagon, as if expecting the Nephilim to race like a lion after it.
Ut howled forlornly, and there was madness in his eyes.
Then Dagon’s scimitar was at Ut’s throat, and the Nephilim clutched the back of the beastmaster coat with his other hand.
“Send it at the Behemoth,” Dagon whispered harshly.
Radek, the Eagle Master and others, along with Nyla, turned their attention back to the hyena. Amazingly, it sped toward the Behemoth while yipping fearfully.
The great creature lowered its thick neck, and despite its grass-eating nature, the Behemoth clutched the hyena with its peg-like teeth. Like a cat with a mouse, the Behemoth lifted its head to a dizzying height. The hyena howled as it writhed, although its back was likely broken. The Behemoth opened its mouth, and the hyena fell over forty feet. Nyla winced at the thud. In moments, the Behemoth stepped on the squirming carrion-eater, squashing the last of Ut’s beasts.
“You will prick the Behemoth with theltocarna,” Dagon whispered into Ut’s ear.
“Lord?” Ut whispered.
Dagon grinned evilly as a fierceness emanated from him. “I rule here on the Isle of the Behemoth. It is my will that dominates. This day, Ut, you shall become known as the Master of the Behemoth. Your fame shall spread, but more importantly, for this service, I shall heal your severed hand, fusing it back onto your arm.”
Ut turned toward Dagon. Instead of hatred, there was pathetic hope, like that of a small boy promised rock candy. “You shall truly do this thing, Lord?”
“I have spoken,” Dagon said.
“Lord, you are gracious.”
“Give him the theltocarna,” Dagon told Nyla.
Nyla dug the Thag-skin from her sash. It was obvious now the nature of Dagon’s accursed gift. And Nyla could well understand why the Nephilim had gone to such lengths to keep his gift secret. The Nephilim could persuade others or dominate their wills. Yet there had to a grim price for Dagon, otherwise, why hadn’t he dominated everyone’s will in the party?
As Nyla handed Ut the Thag-skin, she glanced sidelong at Dagon. His eyes were bloodshot and weariness had put lines in his brutish face. Yes, using his accursed gift appeared to tire him greatly. She would have to remember that. Then Nyla wondered if she or any of the others were supposed to survive this day?
“We must work in tandem,” Dagon said in a loud voice. “Radek, you will head left. Eagle Master, summon your creature. You others, go right. Nyla, you and the bear will follow Ut.”
Even though Nyla knew Dagon’s power and tried to resist it, she felt a compulsion overcome her will. The Nephilim meant for all of them to die. But first, he would use them. First, he would capture the Behemoth, using their blood and perhaps their very lives to do it.
***
Ut’s severed wrist throbbed with pain as blood seeped out of the seared wound. His entire forearm had grown swollen, and it was nearly impossible for him to move it. The shorn hand thumped against his chest as he ran. The lost hand was in the tiny sack dangling from his throat. Despite the pain, Ut was proud of his ability to master it instead of the pain having mastered him. He was of the blood. And in spite of leprosy, in spite of a severed hand and the loss of his pets, he endured well enough to attempt the feat of the ages.
With the iron cane in his left hand, Ut stumbled toward the awesome creature. Precious theltocarna was smeared on the cane’s tip. He must jab the point into the Behemoth so the potent drug entered the mighty beast’s bloodstream.
Ut wished he still had his right hand. It had been his good hand. A left-handed thrust could very well prove clumsy. Yet that was simply another thing to overcome. All his life, he’d overcome obstacles. In the end, not even his father Chemosh had been able to block his path. He was Ut, and he would climb to greatness and show them, show everyone, that he was better, smarter, faster and cleverer than any combination of foes arrayed against him.
“You must all charge it together!” shouted Dagon.
The great bull Behemoth roared. It was like a land-whale, an impossible creature. Nothing should grow so large or so long. The ground shook as the creature moved its feet. The head swayed from side-to-side, a tiny thing compared to the massive neck.
The thunderous call beat at Ut’s resolve. He was much too near the great creature. He staggered to a halt, craning his head, looking up, up and up. The relatively fast approach of the Behemoth—
Dagon killed my hyenas.
Ut’s eyes widened in amazement. He glanced at the iron cane in his fist. Then he noticed the squashed corpse of the nearest cave hyena, flattened as a man would squish a fly with his thumb. Ut’s leather belt creaked as he turned around.
Dagon stood far back on a rock. The hairy Nephilim bent his head and seemed transfixed in concentration.
The Behemoth roared again.
Ut whirled forward in terror, and he almost dropped the cane to run for his life.
The Behemoth was like a tower of gray flesh before him. A powerful odor drifted near, an animal smell and not altogether unpleasant. The head high up there tilted so the Behemoth peered down at him. Ut’s severed wrist throbbed with agony. He saw the anger in the Behemoth’s eyes, the unreasoning dislike of other creatures common to bull animals of older years.
Ut had time to realize his frailty, and the futility of trying to master such an awesome beast. Then the head began to lower toward him. The head moved much too fast. The muscles of the giant neck seemed beautiful in that moment. The Behemoth’s lips peeled back to show the peg-like teeth, stained a yellow color like some horses.
A racing orn screeched, and the eight-foot bird with iron-shod talons made a fantastic leap. Its stubby, useless wings flapped. The orn leapt airborne at the Behemoth, and the talons raked the gray flesh where the long neck joined the main trunk of the body.
The peg-like teeth of the Behemoth snapped several feet away from Ut. The click was loud and ominous, and a grassy odor like freshly cut hay struck Ut. He stumbled backward, blinking.
The orn fell, bounced off the ground and scrambled to its talons. The great carnivorous bird with its axe-like beak was often considered more dangerous than a sabertooth. It was puny compared to the Behemoth, as dangerous as a mouse to a large dog. Yet even mice have incisors, able to pierce skin.
Fifty feet behind the orn, tall Radek shook his fists, no doubt willing his bird to continue its insane attack.
The orn flapped its stubby wings and screeched at the great creature.
“Stab the Behemoth, Ut!” Dagon shouted.
Ut blinked several times at the monster. He was too dazed to move, shivering at his close brush with death.
The mighty neck curved and iron-like cables seemed to rise from the gray flesh. The Behemoth bit the orn and released it in a single action. The crushed bird flopped onto the ground, spasmodically jerking as it died.
Radek of Orns bellowed with rage.
So did the Behemoth. And its call caused a flock of wading flamingos to burst airborne in fright from the lake. Before the echoes died, the Behemoth charged.
Ut staggered leftward as the ground trembled like a small quake. For its immense size, the Behemoth’s speed was astonishing. It seemed like a herd of stampeding mammoths.
Radek must have forgotten about his rage. The tall beastmaster turned and ran. He fairly flew across the grassy plain. It didn’t matter. The bull Behemoth trampled him so blood spurted out of his torn flesh.
Now began a gory contest as the beasts concentrated on the Behemoth. They came from all sides, darting, barking, yipping, screeching and roaring. They taunted the Behemoth, and they scrambled or hopped out of the way as the great creature charged them. The beastmasters stood well back, but still too near, using all their power to drive their creatures. Dagon stood frozen on his rock, his fur damp with sweat.
One by one, the beasts of Shamgar died, as did the beastmasters. But the contest tired the great Behemoth. Its gray sides glistened, and the sides finally moved like gigantic bellows as air rushed from the creature’s mouth.
It was now that the cave bear rushed the Behemoth. And the bruin of outrageous size gave the mighty land monster pause.
The Behemoth lowered its head close to the ground and roared hoarsely but thunderously. The bear stood on its hind legs and bellowed a challenge back.
“Run in, Ut, and stab the creature,” Dagon shouted. “Use the theltocarna.”
Ut turned back and stared at Dagon. Was the Nephilim mad? Did Dagon think him—?
Ut staggered under the impact of the Nephilim’s mental dominance. The hairy son of Gog stared fixedly at him. Like waves of heat, the power of Dagon’s will stabbed at Ut.
Ut faced the Behemoth, and slowly, he stalked toward the panting creature. Ut forgot about his swollen forearm. He forgot about his terror of the murderous bull monster. There was a last vestige of his will, however. It was enough to act on the knowledge of what he’d witnessed these past minutes. The orn, the eagle, a termagant, none had torn open the Behemoth’s leathery-thick skin, although the orn had caused deep gouges. It caused Ut to realize that he’d have a difficult time penetrating the Behemoth’s flesh deep enough for the theltocarna to work. Therefore, he had to think of something else than stabbing with his cane.
Unfortunately, Ut lacked the time. Dagon’s compulsion drove him into a shambling run. Ut rushed through grasses as tall as his waist, and he ran over trampled areas, some with mangled creatures lying about.
The Behemoth cocked its head, taking its concentration from the great bear to regard this gnat called Ut.
Ut dropped his iron cane. Left-handed, he ripped the Thag-skin from his coat. As the gray head descended, Ut hurled the entire supply of theltocarna at the Behemoth. The grisly skin wobbled in the air. Ut looked on, willing the throw. Then the skin landed on the great creature’s tongue as the panting Behemoth drew another of its gasping breathes. The Thag-skin disappeared into its gullet.
Ut wanted to shout. Instead, he threw himself flat as the gray head darted at him. He felt the head whistle over him.
“Get up and run, you fool!” Dagon roared.
Ut howled in pain as his swollen forearm pushed against the ground. Waves of nausea rolled through him. In spite of that, he managed to reach his feet and stagger several steps like a drunkard. He fell, and he must have blanked out, for he awoke with his face pressed against the damp soil.
Roars and bawls of fury must have woken him. With a groan, Ut rolled onto his back. The mighty bear of Gog and the Behemoth fought. Blood welled on the giant gray neck, dripping and staining the grass. The cave bear’s claws dripped with gore and its wet teeth gnawed on a thick piece of torn Behemoth-flesh.
Then the bull charged too quickly for the bear to shift out of its way. The Behemoth knocked the bear flying so it rolled like a furry ball. As the bear scrambled to its feet, the great bull trampled it, splintering bones and crushing the skull. Twisted through vicious magic, the cave bear died a hideously violent death. Unlike the other beasts, which it had only stepped on in passing, the Behemoth repeatedly trampled on the bear as if performing some obscene dance. It left the bruin a gory, unrecognizable mass, and it caused the bull to pant and its bleeding neck to sag.
“Now, Ut! Now is the moment. Get up and master the Behemoth.”
Ut lay on the grass as his severed limb throbbed with agony. He found it difficult to think. He wanted to lay here and rest forever.
“You weak fool, you pathetic son of Chemosh, do wish for glory on a plate? Do you want others to hand you authority? Or will you rise up and take what you desire? This is the moment for glory, Ut. Win yourself great fame or sink into ignobility and let others dine off your leprous flesh.”
Ut groaned as he sat up. He ate others. Others did not eat him. That was the lesson of Lemuria. It was eat or be eaten. In the end, there was no middle ground.
Ut swayed to his feet, and he began to assert his will over the Behemoth. Through the power of his blood, he poured forth dominance.
The great bull lifted its head. Panting, it regarded Ut.
“You must obey me,” Ut whispered.
The Behemoth made a strange sort of croaking call. Then the terrible head lowered toward him at a terrific rate. The mouth opened so Ut could easily see the peg-like teeth.
“No!” Ut shouted. “Obey me, beast.”
The gray head lowered, and the mouth opened wider. Then the Behemoth licked Ut with its great pink tongue. It knocked the beastmaster onto the ground. Then the Behemoth licked him again, showering Ut the Cannibal with love because it was drugged with theltocarna.
-21-
The heat of the hidden flame struck Lod powerfully. It was a supernatural thing that beat against his spirit. The world seemed unreal, almost ghostly, yet terrifyingly sinister.
Lod staggered on an ancient road composed of cyclopean blocks of sunken gray stone. While on the olden road, he passed ruins of monumental size that made him seem like a mouse in a giant’s castle. Crumbling ziggurats with their layered levels towered beside vast black monoliths. One arch-shaped monolith had cruciform writing chiseled upon it. Those marks made Lod’s eyes ache. With a snarl, he realized the cruciform was likely a magic spell of vileness. Despite his inability to decipher the words, Lod dropped his gaze lest the ancient spell have some ability to harm him.
Behemoth (Lost Civilizations: 5) Page 20