The Ballad of Azron Bezron

by Steve Wetherell

Baby looked up fearfully as the shadow of wings fell over him. Just as it seemed he was about to gain a first-hand account of bird-monster digestive anatomy, Jaq leapt in front of him, rifle raised and ready. There was a sound like a thunderclap and a strangled squawk. The devilcrow’s corpse landed with a thump that shook the ground. There was a ragged, bloody hole in the centre of its head.

  Azron sat up, breathing hard. ‘Well that was—’

  Suddenly the air was alive with shrieks, caws and flapping.

  The colour drained from Jaq’s face as she looked up, seeing shape after dark shape erupting from the various treetops. ‘There are dozens of them,’ she said breathlessly.

  Azron sprang to his feet like a jack-in-the-box after too much caffeine. ‘We need to get to the horses!’ he said.

  ‘Horses is a good idea!’ Baby concurred.

  ‘No time!’ Jaq shouted. ‘Over there!’ She pointed to a large burrowed mound in the earth.

  ‘We don’t know what’s down there!’ said Azron. ‘It could be a proto-badger, or a crackrabbit or—’

  ‘Or a hobbit!’ shrieked Baby.

  ‘We don’t know what’s down there, true, but we do know what’s up here. Now come on!’ Jaq sprinted toward the burrow, Azron hot on her heels.

  Baby looked about in a flustered panic until a caw from above spurred him into motion. He huffed and puffed his way toward the hole in the ground, diving the last few feet as something swooped over his head. Azron pulled him farther into the burrow just as a devilcrow’s head burst into the entrance, screeching and snapping furiously with its terrible beak.

  Baby kicked his legs, pushing his way backwards until he found himself scrunched into Jaq and Azron. A pistola was lowered over his shoulder and he looked up into the grim determination of Jaq’s face.

  ‘If it gets in here, it’ll be the last thing it does,’ she said.

  The giant bird shrieked and squawked and thrashed madly, unable to get any further into the burrow. After what seemed like an age it gave up and flew away. Azron, Jaq and Baby sat hunched in the damp earth for hours, nobody moving, barely breathing. Eventually all the devilcrows returned to their various nests.

  ‘What now?’ said Azron.

  ‘We wait ‘til nightfall,’ said Jaq.

  ‘Then we get on the horses?’ said Baby hopefully.

  Jaq shook her head. ‘If they haven’t run away, they’re most certainly dead. From here on out, we’re on foot.’

  Baby stared grimly into the dark. ‘This chocolate better be bloody amazing,’ he said.

  +++

  In the forest night, the travellers emerged from the burrow. Whatever beast had dug its hole there had thankfully not returned, and under a sliver of a moon the devilcrows slept.

  The travellers walked softly and carefully through the woodland and back out into the wide stretches of the cotton prairies. Keeping as far away from tree lines as they possibly could.

  +++

  They walked for days and a bone-weary fatigue set in. Without their packhorse, they had lost their travelling essentials. Though the days were warm, the nights were difficult to find comfort in, without blankets. With no food, Jaq resorted to wasting precious bullets bringing down the docile wakkabirds who seemed to serve no other purpose than to be easy pickings for the rest of the predators on the cotton prairies. They had no water but for the half-full flask Jaq kept by her side. The long grasses of the prairies were now even longer, coming up to the shoulder. Without the benefit of horses, making progress was hard work.

  ‘How long now?’ said Baby, panting.

  ‘Remember what I said last time you asked that?’ said Jaq coldly.

  ‘You said things that were unpleasant.’

  ‘Yes. Yes I did. Now be quiet.’

  They trudged on in silence for a while until Azron cleared his throat.

  ‘Yeah, but…you know…are we there yet?’

  ‘No. We are about a half day’s walk from the lightning barrens.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Azron patted his coat and retrieved his tobacco pouch. There were only a few shreds of tobacco leaf left, and next to starving to death or being eaten by the various beasties that inhabited the plains, this was of great concern to him.

  ‘Even when we were lost in the desert, I at least had some bloody ‘baccy,’ he mumbled.

  ‘What?’ said Jaq.

  ‘Nothing. Just grumbling. Running low on ‘baccy.’

  ‘Here,’ said Jaq, tossing him a pouch.

  Azron held up the pouch, peered at it, then sniffed it deeply. It was filled with fresh tobacco. ‘I didn’t think you smoked,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t,’ said Jaq. ‘It’s a weak habit. But I know you do. I thought I might need it.’

  Azron grinned. ‘What? To sweeten me up? I thought you were more of a “point a gun at them and speak in a low and threatening voice” sort of girl?’

  ‘Oh, I am that,’ said Jaq. ‘It pays to be pragmatic, though. Carry a big stick, have a little carrot on hand just in case.’

  ‘Very wise,’ said Azron, lighting the cigarette he had expertly rolled while Jaq was talking. ‘Maybe we’ll call it quits for saving your life?’

  Jaq stopped. She turned slowly and pointed a finger at Azron. ‘You. Did not. Save my life.’

  ‘Well, I seem to remember that bloody great bird nearly had your head off your shoulders. If it hadn’t been for me pulling you down—’

  Jaq lowered her voice. ‘You. Did not. Save my life. If you hadn’t put me off balance I could made the shot and we’d still have our horses!’

  ‘Oh, so that’s my fault is it?’

  ‘Damn right!’

  Azron narrowed his eyes. ‘Know what you are? You’re an ingrate.’

  Yeah? And you’re a dead man!’

  Azron threw his arms up. ‘So kill me! Stop banging on about it and kill me! But you’ll have to join the bloody queue, love, ‘cause every other bugger wants a turn first!

  Azron and Jaq stood eye to eye, neither backing down.

  ‘This is awkward and sexual,’ said Baby.

  ‘Bah!’ Jaq turned on her heel and stormed off. Azron watched her go.

  Baby cleared his throat. ‘Are we for going to go after her?’

  Azron nodded. ‘Yeah, but you go first. Tell me if she’s waiting with a gun.’

  +++

  There was more awkward silence, but this time Azron let it unravel without comment. He considered himself a fairly enlightened man, in that he firmly believed women were just as dangerous and untrustworthy as men. Maybe dangerous and untrustworthy in different ways, sometimes, but ways he respected all the more for their subtlety.

  Jaq was different, though. Azron had met women warriors before, and was all for equal rights, especially when the advocate of said rights was holding a pair of axes. But Jaq seemed to take no joy in what she was. No screaming for combat or bumptious bravado. There was just a hard dedication, a…professionalism about her that was as cold as a tombstone in the snow.

  Azron had no idea why he found this so damned sexy. He expected it was psychological, and as with all things esoteric, gave it a wide berth.

  ‘What was that?’ said Jaq suddenly.

  Azron looked about guiltily. ‘I didn’t say anything!’ he said.

  ‘No. A noise. Listen.’

  For a while there was nothing but the constant background noise of crickets, then a faint rustle.

  Jaq had her rifle on her shoulder so quickly it was as though she were a low-effort flick-book. She scanned the brush, slowly tracking her rifle around until it was pointed squarely at Azron’s face.

  The thief swallowed. ‘I wonder if this might be a good time to apologise?’ he said.

  ‘Duck,’ whispered Jaq.

  Azron dropped to his haunches just as he heard a low growl behind him. There was the colossal retort of the rifle and a corpse dropped to his side. It was a velvety black wolf with a snout that ended not only in sharp-toothed maw, but also two wicked, spir
aling tusks. A single green eye stared blankly from its socket in the creature’s forehead.

  ‘Great holy bastards!’ Azron exclaimed, jumping to his feet. ‘What the hell is that?’

  Jaq began to reload her flintlock rifle. ‘Borehounds.’ she said flatly. ‘We have to be alert. They always hunt in pa—’

  The bounty hunter was cut off as another borehound leapt from the tall grass and bowled her to the ground. Azron stood with his mouth agape as woman and beast wrestled in front of him. Jaq quickly turned onto her back, jamming the butt of her rifle into the creature’s neck, using all the strength in her arms to keep the salivating, snapping jaws away from her face. She winced as a tusk cut a gouge along her cheek. The beast’s jaws inched closer and her arms began to shake against the pressure.

  Azron shook off his hesitation and snapped into the present as though at the end of temporal yo-yo. He once again grabbed the dagger in his boot and bowled into the borehound with a primal scream. There was a yelp and Azron found himself sprawled on top of a hard, furry mound that let out one last shuddering breath before lying completely still. He got to his feet and stared dumbly down at his shaking hand. His dagger was slick with dark blood. He jumped slightly as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned around to look into Jaq’s hard, green eyes.

  Suddenly, there was a gurgling howl from not very far away at all. Then another. Then three more still.

  Baby burst into their small clearing, panic stretching his face. ‘Does the howling mean they are running away? We are mighty and victorious?’

  Jaq shook her head as she began to check and ready her rifle. ‘The howling means they’re coming for us.’

  ‘That is the exact opposite of the scenario I just now suggested!’ wailed Baby. ‘I am disappointed and terrified!’

  Azron grabbed Jaq’s arm. ‘We’ve got to run,’ he said.

  ‘No. We can’t outrun them. We fight.’

  ‘We can’t outfight them! We run!’

  Jaq spoke through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t you get it, Bezron? I don’t run—I chase.’

  Azron grinned. ‘Then chase me! Isn’t that what you’re paid for?’

  Without a further word, Azron turned and ran, picking Baby up by the scruff of the neck as he did so.

  Jaq stood for a while, her rifle ramrod straight before her. She looked at the tall grass, where even now she could hear a rustling growing louder. Then she looked behind her at the thin trail that the fleeing thief had made.

  ‘Bugger,’ she said, and ran off after Azron.

  +++

  Azron was quick, moving in bounding leaps across the grass, terror lending him a soaring grace that would have given a gazelle pause for thought. Baby was tucked under his arm like a rugby ball.

  ‘This is for terrible stomach!’ the kobold cried. ‘I will not be responsible for the colour of your shoes!’

  Azron said nothing, simply pumped his legs for all they were worth. He was quick, but across open ground he couldn’t hope to outrun a pack of borehounds. Already he could feel his initial adrenaline rush wearing off, and his muscles were beginning to ask some serious questions about overtime rates. What he needed was twists and turns and ways to outthink his pursuers. He almost laughed as he saw a cluster of small trees come into his field of vision. He put his head down and ploughed towards them.

  All of a sudden the grass gave way to flat mud, and Azron skidded to a halt just as he came to the ledge of a narrow chasm, perhaps seven or eight feet across. He looked down, seeing a small stream gurgling a dozen or more feet down. The walls of the cavern were dry earth, certainly nothing a man could climb back up with ease, let alone a borehound.

  Azron nodded to himself and, with barely a second thought, slung Baby underarm across the chasm. Baby gave a shriek and landed with a thump. Azron didn’t stop to listen to the litany of curse words that followed. He turned, moved back to take a run-up, then sprinted towards the chasm, leaping at the last moment and landing with an awkward roll on the far side.

  He stood up and looked back at the grass fields. He panted heavily, his eyes narrowed. He waited.

  +++

  Jaq pushed through the long grass, for once regretting the pounds and pounds of excess weaponry she wore instead of clothes. She could already hear the panting of the borehounds as they moved in behind her. Her rifle was once again slung over her back, but she kept a pistola ready in her hand. Just as she felt the hot, slavering breath on her neck, she ducked and rolled, causing the leaping borehound to soar over her and skidded to a confused stop. Jaq put a bullet in the beast without hesitation, and was on her feet and running just in time to avoid the snapping jaw of another borehound.

  Fear lent new strength to her legs, and in desperation she slung the spent pistola behind her. She made a mental note of the various short blades and daggers on her person. If she was taken down, she’d be taken down slashing, stabbing and generally making dinner difficult for her pursuers.

  The tall grass suddenly ended and Jaq saw the chasm looming before her, Azron waiting on the other side. She leapt without looking and landed with a thump, her arms and chest on the lip of the chasm and her legs dangling above the drop. She did not have time to pull herself up before the pursuing borehounds barreled into her. The animals crashed into her hanging body then tumbled into the stream below, but not before one of them managed to catch her boot in its jaws, dragging her farther down the crumbling wall before she kicked it off.

  Jaq clung to the wall, feeling the earth shift beneath her fingers. She succeeded in burrowing her foot in a little, but knew straight away that the grip wouldn’t last. It was a familiar sensation, like trying to carry too much wet crockery from the sink. Things would begin to slide, slowly but unstoppably, until there was an inevitable breakage. Jaq looked below her to where the one-eyed borehounds had recovered from their fall and were already leaping and snapping at her heels. She looked up and felt a rush of hope as she saw Azron’s face looking down at her.

  ‘Help me,’ she said. ‘Quickly—I can’t hold on like this for long.’

  Azron looked down impassively for a moment, then stepped back out of sight.

  A shock of fury welled in Jaq’s guts, most of which was directed at herself for having ever trusted a thief. She gritted her teeth and looked below her at the baying hounds. Maybe if she timed her fall right she could crush one of them, which might at least make her feel a little better when the others were eating her…

  ‘Here!’

  Jaq looked up. Azron had returned, holding a branch for her to cling on to. She did so just as the earth gave way beneath her foot. She hung there for a while, the thief straining as he held the branch steady.

  ‘Quick!’ said Azron. ‘You’re really, really heavy.’

  Jaq snarled and, using the last of her fading strength, pulled herself arm over arm onto the lip of the chasm. Then she rolled onto her back and lay there breathing hard, listening to the cheated howls of the borehounds below.

  She lay for some time, the grey fog clearing from the periphery of her vision, then she got to her feet. Azron was standing still, his back turned to her, looking down at the borehounds.

  ‘Well?’ said Jaq. ‘Aren’t you going to make another crack about saving my life?’

  Azron didn’t say anything for a while. Jaq walked slowly over to him, standing at his side. She followed his gaze down to the borehounds, which were still leaping and scrabbling ineffectually at the wall, or pacing in a figure of eight, snarling all the while.

  ‘I always was more of a cat person,’ said Azron, his voice far away.

  Jaq frowned at him. ‘Are you okay?’

  Azron looked down at the dagger in his hand, still wet with blood. ‘You know, I bought this a long time ago. Actually bought it, you know. I wasn’t looking to stab anybody or anything, but I thought, you never know, right?’ The thief sighed. ‘I’ve never had to use it. Not for what it’s meant for, at any rate. I’ve never had to…you know…cut anybody.’

>   Jaq’s brow creased further as realisation set in. ‘You feel bad about the borehound?’

  Azron shrugged. ‘I’m a thief, not a fighter. A thief is what I always wanted to be.’

  ‘But…it was a borehound.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. But, honestly, love, I can’t step on a spider without feeling bad about it. Taking a life like that, it feels…you know…weird. It’s not something I usually do.’

  Jaq looked at Azron for a while, then burst out laughing. ‘The world’s most notorious thief and you literally wouldn’t hurt a fly?’

  ‘Well, not with malicious intent, I s’pose.’

  Jaq laughed again and Azron began to grin. ‘You know, you should laugh more often. It’s nice.’

  Jaq suddenly grabbed Azron and planted a kiss, quick and warm, on the side of his face. ‘There,’ she said. ‘That’s something I don’t usually do. Now we can both feel weird.’

  Jaq turned and left, leaving Azron alone and uncertain of what to say.

  +++

  The lightning barrens appeared against the cotton prairies as though some cosmic creator had run out of Cornflower Blue and Forest Green and had found left in his paintbox only Pungent Brown, Goth Black and Suicidal Grey. Miles and miles of flat, dull earth, interrupted here and there by sticky little shrubs and skeletal plants, were topped by a sky that was bleak and heavy with cloud. On the horizon lightning stepped, thunder booming in its wake.

  The trio of travellers paused and Baby nodded his head sagely. ‘I may not be a smart kobold, but I know what ominous is.’

  Azron nodded in agreement. ‘I’ve got to admit, I’ve seen a lot of ominous in my time. This is pretty damn ominous. You know, they say it’s haunted.’

  The wind whipped and moaned across the dirt as if in agreement.

  Jaq shrugged. ‘Ghosts are nothing to worry about. Firstly they’re already dead, and secondly they don’t exist.’

  Aron raised an eyebrow. ‘Sure about that, are you?’

  ‘I’ve never seen one.’

  ‘I’d never seen a borehound ‘til yesterday—it didn’t stop them trying to eat me.’

  Jaq sighed. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘whatever’s waiting for us we’ll deal with it.’