Thomas

by Michael G. Manning

  The arrow flew true, though she could hardly miss at such close range. Because of the bear’s facing, she had no hope of a heart shot, and the skull itself was far too thick to hope for, the arrow wouldn't penetrate. Instead, she took the only target available to her, one that might give her enough advantage to escape the wrath that would ensue. The shaft buried itself deep in the bear's right hind leg, high up, near the hip. Such a wound couldn't possibly kill the massive creature, but it might slow it down, not to mention draw its attention away from her wounded friends.

  Time froze as several things happened at once. Thomas' eyes locked with hers for a moment, shock and surprise on his face, followed a second later by fear, as he saw the bear turn toward her. For her own part, she winked at him, masking her own anxiety, and then she began yelling and waving her arms, to ensure the bear knew exactly who had shot it. Nothing like making sure of a job well done. The bear meanwhile, screamed out its rage, turning to discover the source of the pain. Then it lunged at her.

  Delia wasted no time, sprinting away as fast as her legs could carry her. Glancing over her shoulder, she was awed by the sight of the massive beast surging after her. How can something that big move so fast? Weaving in and out among the trees, she tried to gain ground by forcing it to make small turns, but she actually lost more ground. If I had four legs, I could win this race. It was so close now she could almost feel its breath at her back, great lungs working like a massive forge billows behind her.

  Eyes wide, she scanned the trees ahead, hoping to see what she needed. Too small and it would be over quickly, too large and she might be unable to scale it fast enough. Black bears and young browns could climb quite well, but she knew this monstrosity was far too big to do so.

  There! She threw her bow ahead of her, arcing it upwards, hoping it would be trapped in the branches; then she leapt. Her bound carried her up, arms outstretched to catch a lower limb. Using the momentum from her run she swung her body up into the boughs. The next few seconds were a terror, scrabbling and clawing to maintain her perch, but at last she secured her spot, a good fifteen feet from the ground.

  Below her the bear reared up, standing and stretching. It was frightening how far it could reach. If she had stopped at ten feet, it might have snared her. Unfortunately, her bow had not stayed in the tree as she had hoped. She could see it lying below, a good ten yards beyond the base of the tree. I guess adrenaline isn't always a good thing. If she still had it she might have eventually killed the mammoth bear as it tried to wait her out. I guess we're in for a long staring contest. Oh well, give it your best Mr. Bear, I can outlast you any day.

  The grizzly had other ideas. The tree itself was a solid ten inches in diameter at the base, not exactly a huge example of the elm family, but surely enough to keep her safe. The tree shook as the bear hurled itself against it, but held firm. After a few tries, the animal changed tactics. Stretching up, it caught a large lower limb and began to lean back, then forward, using its massive weight to whip the trunk back and forth.

  Delia grimaced. Nobody mentioned how smart they are, she thought to herself.

  A sharp crack heralded the demise of an otherwise healthy tree. Popping and splitting the trunk leaned over, while further down some of the bigger roots snapped. Delia was falling. She tried to land on her feet, but limbs struck her as she fell and she wound up landing on her back instead, the air leaving her lungs with a great whoosh.

  Stunned, she couldn't recover quickly enough. The beast towered over her, grim and deadly. Delia knew it was over. Then she saw Grom's axe sprout suddenly from the bear's injured leg, sinking into the joint.

  The dwarf was roaring, trying to match the bear's ferocity with his own as the axe struck with all the force he could muster, before a wall of fur and claws slammed into him. Grom wasn't tall, but he was close to two hundred pounds, even so, he was flung back like a child's doll, his axe still buried in the flesh of the creature's leg.

  The great animal had not given up on his quarry, though. Ignoring the dwarf, it went for Delia, and she might have died then, but its leg collapsed causing it to slip, howling in rage. Using its three good legs, it levered itself up, but then Grom was back. Leaping up he got his strong arms around its huge throat and pulled back, forcing most of its weight over on the one good foreleg on that side.

  Grom's face was locked in a rictus grin as he strove with the bear. The bear had only one good hind leg now, and when it raised one foreleg to claw him, he shoved forward, sending them into a roll. He fought to keep his grip around its head, in the meantime, as any slip would give it the freedom needed to bring its jaws to bear.

  That turned out to be irrelevant; the roll put him under the bear's shoulder, crushing him against the ground. Ribs snapped and blood erupted from his mouth. His hold on the bear's neck was lost and it quickly righted itself, turning to clamp great jaws upon his shoulder. Waves of pain rolled across him as he felt his collarbone give way.

  Grom tried to spit in the beast's eye, but there was no air left in his lungs to propel the bloody spittle. Eaten by a fucking bear. Me da' would be so proud. The jaws released his shoulder, most likely to find new purchase on his flesh.

  Long seconds passed, but the bear didn't move. Viscous strings of saliva dripped down onto the dwarf’s face and the stench of its breath was awful, “Godsdamnitt, either eat me or go home, but stop fuckin' drooling on me!” At least that's what he tried to say, but his broken ribs kept him from making it more than a whisper.

  “Grom! Grom! Are you ok?” He could see Delia's slender form climbing over the massive animal's body, bow in hand.

  “Do I look ok to ye? I got this wee tiny beastie and the world’s heaviest trollop on top o' me! 'Course I'm fine!” again, his words came out far too weakly to have the proper effect.

  Thomas found them minutes later, still trying unsuccessfully to shift the animal's weight off the fallen dwarf. He suggested a lever, and with the help of a large limb they finally got the bear off Grom. There were eight arrows deep in its side, two caught in the shoulder bone, one in the fatty lump behind its head. The others were in the ribs and abdomen, one of those had passed between the ribs to pierce the lungs.

  Thomas looked at the bear, then at Grom, then Delia.

  She cocked her hip and winked at him, “Don't look at me, I'm not cleaning it. You can gut and butcher the damn thing.”

  Thomas laughed, and Grom might have too, if it hadn't hurt so much.

  Thomas and Delia helped the injured dwarf hobble back to the tree where Islana lay. After some discussion, they decided the ranger was the obvious choice to return for help, especially since she was the only one who could find her way out, much less back again. Since they were nearer to Weston than Drumaness, she headed for the temple of Delwyn.

  “I'll be back as quickly as possible,” Delia’s concern at leaving her wounded companions alone was evident.

  Grom was propped against the stump of the once proud elm, “Don't worry lass, I'll guard them while yer gone.” He had regained enough wind to talk after some rest, and he tried to laugh at his own joke, but even that was too much to manage.

  Chapter 13

  Recovery

  Delia returned before noon the next day; Father Whitmire and a small contingent of guards with her. It was good that the abbot himself came; Islana’s fever had gotten worse, and without magical aid she would not have survived the trip back to Weston.

  The guards built a litter to carry her on. Islana had lost so much blood that even with powerful healing, she was still unable to walk. It would be weeks before she fully regained her strength.

  A few days later, Delia paid a visit to Islana’s room, ostensibly to bring her flowers. She had found the flowers in a meadow near town, a motley collection of ‘brown-eyed susans’ and purple coneflowers. Delia took a seat by the bed. She wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted, so she just watched the other woman as she fussed over the flowers.

  Eventually, Islana got tired of waiti
ng for her, “You look like you’ve got something you want to talk about.”

  “Islana, I’m sorry,” said the ranger. Their eyes met for a moment, then they both looked away, embarrassed.

  “So am I.”

  “No, wait. Hear me out,” Delia continued, “I am sorry, very sorry. I’m also a bit put out with you, but let me explain.”

  Islana interrupted anyway, “You and Grom saved my life. You have nothing to apologize for!”

  “Yes, I do, if you’ll let me finish,” Delia sighed. “I overheard you talking to Thomas, before the bear came. You said you had kissed him so I thought…”

  “Delia, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I knew you and he were intimate…” apologized the paladin.

  “Damn it, Islana! Stop apologizing!” Delia shouted. That got Islana’s attention, and left her a bit bewildered. Delia took a breath and continued, “Thomas isn’t mine! He’s not a possession. For that matter, we’re not even intimate, well not exactly. I mean, I tried, but he wouldn’t—that’s not the point. The point is this: You can’t spend your life sacrificing your needs. If you want him, do something about it! He can make up his own damn mind what he wants. So, don’t tell me that you’re sorry! If I had been in your place I would not have stopped at a kiss.”

  Islana sat, thinking. The combination of advice and revelations had overwhelmed her mind. So they aren’t…, her thought stopped there, even mentally, she had trouble thinking the word. “Why are you telling me this?” She gave Delia an even, appraising stare.

  “Because I couldn’t bear watching you blame yourself for this. To be such a strong woman, you spend too much time undermining yourself.” Delia looked away, “You deserve better than that.”

  Islana frowned, “You contradict yourself. You tell me not to sacrifice my needs, but what are you doing now? You say we should take what we want? Then why are you trying to help me?” The paladin held a flower in her fingers, examining the petals.

  “I admire you, Islana. You’re everything I cannot be, and some things I don’t want to be, but you’re a good woman, and maybe—maybe a friend. Besides, there are plenty of things you haven’t considered; you have such a black and white mindset. Just because a man fucks a woman, doesn’t forever seal him to her. Even if we had taken a tumble, you still could’ve had some fun in Drumaness.”

  Islana was blushing furiously and her mouth seemed to be frozen half agape. Unable to resist the fun of tormenting her, Delia continued, becoming more explicit, “After all, a man’s seed renews itself. Just like a bull, he might spend it today on one heifer, but soon enough, he has more to spend on a different cow.”

  The paladin couldn’t take any more, “Delia, stop! By the gods, you are such a slut. How can you think like that? Men and women are not beasts!” They argued for while after that, but Islana could not sway Delia’s demented world-view. A knock on the door cut short the debate.

  “Come in please! Save me!” Islana was only half joking as Thomas stepped inside.

  He looked at the two women, sensing something odd in the air, “What were you talking about?”

  Islana flushed red and studied the window, while Delia rose to her feet. Walking past Thomas, she whispered, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” before smirking wickedly. “You can have the chair, we’re done.” She left them alone, shutting the door behind her.

  Thomas sat down, and he and Islana talked for a while. He kept the conversation on safe topics, such as her recovery, the weather, and how the others were doing. After a few minutes, she decided to take the offensive, “Thomas, about the other evening.” They both knew which evening she meant. “I said some things after, and before but—well—I misjudged you.”

  Thomas didn’t argue, “I agree.” He was calm, but his eyes had a strange hint of sadness in them.

  Keep going, don’t give up now… She started again, “What I’m trying to say, is that maybe if you are free sometime, we could have another picnic…” Her words trailed off at the end. Why is it so hard to say?

  “Islana, wait.” His expression was serious, “I can’t. I—I’ve been thinking about things, meditating, and seeking guidance from the goddess.”

  She frowned, “And she told you no more picnics?”

  He knew she was joking, but didn’t let it deter him, “No, but looking back, these past few months, I’ve been distracted. You nearly died a few days ago, and there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop it. That’s not why I became a cleric.”

  “You saved my life! You carried me miles through the forest, in the dead of night. You tended me for days. Those are all good things,” she countered, but her words didn’t have the desired effect.

  “During our entire mission, I did little besides think of you. ‘Why is she mad?’ or ‘She looks so beautiful today.’ Or ‘Maybe I can kiss her.’ None of that is what I was supposed to be doing. If I had been focused properly, on my faith, on my training, on my mission, then I might have had the power to save you. Or you might not have been so badly wounded to begin with,” Thomas paused.

  Islana felt like crying, but her eyes were dry as he continued, “You were magnificent, Islana. Despite terrible odds, you fought with incredible skill. You saved us both. While you have progressed, I feel I have been standing still, and it nearly cost you.”

  She was tired, “Thomas, enough. You’ve worn me out. I don’t agree with you. I will never agree with you. I understand though, so go pray or meditate or whatever it takes to make you feel better.”

  “I just wanted to explain, so you wouldn’t feel...,” he caught himself before saying the word, ‘rejected’.

  “Yeah, yeah, its ok. We’re still friends, now let me get some rest.” She closed her eyes, willing him out of the room. After a moment, he did leave.

  ***

  In the days that followed Thomas did not visit again, although Delia did several times. Islana wasn’t sure if that pleased her or not. The younger woman had a way of exasperating her that few did. She was friendly enough, but her strange views regarding men and women annoyed Islana, something that Delia seemed to enjoy doing.

  Once she was recovered and back to her own training, the young paladin still didn’t see much of Thomas. The few times she ran into him in the halls he was cordial and polite, almost diffident. At the morning services his face held a look of concentration, as though he were striving to reach the goddess through sheer mental effort. Islana wasn’t sure how she felt about the ‘new’ Thomas; he had become strange to her, as though he were a different person. Her only consolation was that he had also distanced himself from Delia and even Grom.

  “You know what he told me the other day?” Delia was speaking in strident tones. She had convinced Islana to meet her at the forge to talk things over with Grom. “He told me he was ‘fasting’. When I asked him what he had given up, he told me ‘people’. He’s obviously gone off the deep end.”

  Islana replied, “He blames himself for what happened when we came back from Drumaness. I think he’s trying to focus on his faith.” She didn’t feel like mentioning her own part in his decision. “Did he say anything to you Grom?”

  “Nah, but he hasn’t come by to help at the forge since that trip to Drumaness. He seems fine though, ye probably should just let him be, he’ll sort it out in his own time.” Grom didn’t like interfering.

  Delia replied, “So it’s okay for him to avoid everyone and act like a complete stranger?”

  “Ya, if that’s what it takes,” Grom answered, but even he was uneasy with that thought.

  Weeks turned into months and little changed. They were all growing, changing, not physically, but inwardly. Grom had made a lot of progress in his training in the guard, and even though he wasn’t human, there was talk that one day he might be made an officer. His combat prowess had improved as well, making him a frightening opponent on the sparring field.

  Islana’s own growth was of a more spiritual nature. Like Thomas, she spent more time praying and meditating, w
hich had rewarded her with a stronger focus, both in combat and in her connection to the divine. Unlike priests, who gained great magical aid from their gods in the form of spells, paladins manifested their powers in a much more physical sense, their bodies becoming vessels that radiated the goddess’ power to everyone and everything around them. Although she wasn’t to that point yet, she could feel the beginnings of change within herself.

  Delia for her part began taking her classes more seriously. Although the temple had nothing to teach regarding the wilds that rangers called home, it did have much to teach her about self-control. Even though Thomas wasn’t spending time helping her to read, she began working harder on her own. In spite of herself, she refrained from seducing any more of the temple residents. Whether she found an occasional dalliance with one of the townsmen, well that was no one’s business but her own.

  Thomas had gained more respect among the clergy and was now leading several of the weekday services. The others often went to those, which seemed to please him, but he never spent time with them afterward. He was now also acting as the abbot’s personal assistant, a role with duties beyond those of a simple secretary. It was rumored that he was being groomed for high rank in the future.

  Things might have continued like that indefinitely, if events had not swept them up yet again. The first sign that something was wrong broke into Thomas’ awareness with the morning bell as he was preparing to go and greet the dawn. On most days, the six o’clock bell was a simple affair. It would ring out six times to indicate the hour; today however it rang repetitively, and he was pretty sure that it was not yet six anyway. It was an alarm.

  Rushing out into the courtyard he found a large crowd. The entire temple was in an uproar, giving him the impression of a disturbed ant mound. More people were still coming out of doors and halls, seeking the source of the commotion, much as he was. It seemed to be centered on the main sanctuary, which dominated the center of the complex, so he worked his way in that direction. The entrance into the great central altar was completely blocked by a line of guards and paladins, Islana was among them.