by Niel Hancock
“And then Otter showed up not ten winks before you, made me a little speech, and darted off down yonder. Pretty silly, an otter out of water. He had a bundle of something wrapped in a rucksack, and was gone before I could say a word.”
“I dare say, it must have taken you aback, Raven. But what I said before is now more urgent. You’ve put yourself aright, friend. I must go now.”
As Bear raised his great paw to release the raven, a cry, loud and screeching, followed by two long, hideous howls, broke the stillness of the gathering dawn. Then Otter’s war cry, terrified and terrible, tore loose the roots of Bear’s paws, and he broke into thunderous, rumbling run, his great voice angry and deadly, away in the direction where Otter had been set upon by his two dreadful foes.
Three Toes
and
Gagrot
“We don’t needs to wait for sunrise for our sweets,” growled a low, cruel voice. “We gets them now, I says.”
“We waits,” snarled Three Toes, great yellow fangs bared, an oozing spittle slipping past his crooked underlip.
“Then we splits the dwarf, says I. I don’t want no animal flesh.
“We’ll kill ‘em all first, then we’ll see who eats who. Maybe you should gut the bear, Gagrot, since you seems in such a hurry to eats.”
“If we gets them now, they’ll all be asleep,” protested the first werewolf, Gagrot.
The two lay hidden in a thicket, out of sight of the valley below, evil eyes shining a dull yellowish green light. Far above, in the very top of a great shouldered oak, a small sparrow hung, trembling.
A faint noise of a leaf stir caught Three Toes’ attention. He snarled quietly to the other beast. The noise, faint but barely perceptible to their keen, cruel ears, grew closer. An animal, a not very cautious animal, was moving in their direction. The light of their harsh eyes was lidded, and they waited for their unsuspecting victim to deliver himself to hungry fangs. Closer still, until they could distinctly see the dim outline of a small animal with a peculiar hump on its back moving directly toward their hiding place. When Otter was within a paw’s length, the two ravenous, growling beasts beset him, without so much as a snarl of warning.
Otter’s cry went up, startled and frightened at first, then seeing the great open vises of jaws rowed with cruel, tearing teeth, it turned to terror and his battle cry. As the two dark, scab-covered beasts circled him for the kill, Otter slid out of the heavy pack and turned in a slow circle, warding off bites from those vicious jaws by side leaps or quick, slippery twists. His folds of loose skin saved him from serious harm when the beast behind got his mouth upon what he thought was Otter’s neck, but the skin lifted upward with the fierce bite, leaving the beast’s mouth filled with gray, twisting fur. Otter was lifted off the ground, whirling and trying to get his powerful jaws onto some part of his attacker’s body, and the wolf made the mistake of letting the wriggling form bump against his chest as he tried to find Otter’s throat or backbone to snap it. Otter’s viselike jaws clamped onto the werewolf’s right foreleg, and with all the grinding strength in his small body, he forced his upper and lower teeth deeper and deeper until they met with a rending, crunching sound, and the bone was splintered and split.
A great, deafening howl of misery and pain and hatred rent the peaceful dawn. The other beast jumped quickly to grab Otter’s small body, howling fiercely. Gagrot, his leg broken and bleeding badly, dropped the gray thing whose jaws had so cruelly hurt him. All thoughts of breakfast were replaced with the single desire to maim and kill this filthy rodent-like creature.
Next moment, the trees trembled and the earth shook, followed by the long, angry wail-bellow of a great beast. Otter, fearing help had come to his two assailants, seized the surprised instant when the werewolves turned toward the great bellowing charge, snatched his rucksack, and was safely away into the surrounding dense thickets, running as fast as his short, stubby legs would carry him, heart pounding, out of this terrible wood. As Otter topped the hill, and half slid, half ran down the other side to safe hiding, Bear, hackles bristling, claws and teeth gleaming like steel flames, burst into the clearing where the two startled werewolves stood frozen. Bear’s great speed carried him over the two huge forepaws raking the gristly flesh from the side of the injured beast, great jaws snapping dosed onto the back of the other, and he flung his head high, damped his teeth harder, and skidded to a halt, raising his great bulk to an upright fighting bear stance. Three Toes, still in his mouth, was dead, his back broken from the terrible pressure of Bear’s huge jaws. He flung the lifeless brute into the thicket with a flick of his head, and advanced upon the other beast, cornered now, and wounded. The werewolf, serine his death in Bear’s flaming red eyes, dragged himself to the foot of a wide-girthed ash tree, fangs bared, waiting. His front leg was dangling uselessly, and his rite were torn open and bleeding, and all the strength he had left he would use for one last lunge at this fearsome raging giant
The battle fire that burned Bear’s heart subsided a moment seeing his enemy beaten and dying, the other already dead. He quickly looked about the clearing for what he feared most to find, Otter’s small, helpless body torn and bloody, or worse, half eaten. There were no traces of Otter or his knapsack to be seen. Bear halted a paw’s swipe from the werewolf, still snarling and dangerous.
“Be quick with your answer, foul breath. What happened to the waterfolks? If your answer is true, I’ll give you the mercy of a quick death. If not, I have ways to rend your bones and drain your filthy life slowly enough.
“The gray water filth escaped;” growled Gagrot. “A curse on his filthy lot forever. He’s escaped us. But Doraki still knows. He’ll have his gray fur rotting on his door before too long.” Laughing cruelly, the werewolf coughed blood from the terrible wound Bear had smote him. “And yours, too, scum of a murderer, if I don’t sink my fangs through your fat throat.” Savagely speaking, the beast leapt feebly at Bear’s chest. Lightning-quick and lethal, Bear’s great forepaws crushed the werewolf s skull in midfiight, and the body of the beast crashed lifeless at Bear’s feet.
Bear’s booming victory cry shook the woods with a roaring shudder. In another part of the forest, the birds and other animals who had not heard the struggle thought the day brought a thunderstorm, although the dawn was breaking bright and clear, “May the carrion birds pick your bones,” growled Bear. “And if any harm has come to Otter, a curse and bear fangs in the throats of all your vile kindred.”
Bear’s body began to tremble slightly as the fire burned down, then out, and he sat down wearily at the far end of the clearing, away from the bodies of his two slain foes.
The trembling stopped after a few deep breaths, and the sorrow at having taken life, even as evil as this, set in. He looked away from the clearing, his | heart choked with shame, then that, too, passed swiftly, for the thought of Otter, perhaps hurt, or dying off somewhere in the thickets alone, hastened him back to where he’d dropped his knapsack. He placed it quickly on his back and began circling, trying to pick up Otter’s trail. There was no blood spoor, which gave Bear hope, but for a great distance all about, the foul scent or the werewolves lay heavily upon the dew-carpeted lawn beneath the wood, and their death smell was so thick and vile, he soon left the clearing and surrounding thicket. At the far side of the hilltop, he picked up a faint trace of Otter, then as he moved more quickly away and down into the small valley beyond, it grew stronger still, and he put all other thoughts aside as he set to work earnestly picking out and following the faint water-folk smell that led ever downward toward the gorse berry thickets below.
At full light, Bear had covered a league or more in his search, and looking up now and again, he saw the trail was leading him farther and farther from their valley, away from the peaceful life they had carried on for so long, on, ever on, toward the now shining snow crowns of the far mountains.
And on the bright rays of early sun, Bear began reading the story they had long ago begun, across the River, and even beyond t
hat. The difference in this morning was that instead of waking in his pleasant valley and having a rather late breakfast with his friends, Dwarf was a captive of the powers of some great darkness, and Froghorn had revealed himself as none other than Froghorn Fairingay, and Otter was lost, in his own way trying to spare himself, Bear, the weariness and dangers of a journey into the world of men. And now, he, Bear, Bruinthor’s far distant descendant, had slain in battle again upon this sunrise, and was upon the journey he had proposed to himself to take alone to spare Otter. Now the two of them were far past returning, bound to the promise to Froghorn to seek the aid of this powerful man at map’s end.
All taken carefully into Bear’s slow, cautious consideration, it wasn’t much of a promising morning at all. Nor would be the mornings ahead, wherever they might find them.
“I knew all this wizard talk and dwarf magic would turn to no good,” he muttered to himself, then bent forward and hurried along to catch up to Otter, lost now in his own weary, unpleasant wanderings.
Cakgor
Returns
“Fools, all of you,” shrieked the icy voice of Dorini, in the Dark Palace in the frozen realm of the World Between Time.
“But Your Darkness,” began Doraki, sniveling and frightened by her anger, “we brought you the dwarf. What else could be done? I didn’t think those slime crusts would have left such a thing with one miserable runt like that.”
“Silence, imbecile. You had best not fail me again. Bring me those other scum breaths here. I would question them also. And if you fail me, you’ll pay more than the miserable traitors themselves. I shall rob you of your precious power, and leave you among mankind forever.”‘
Shaken visibly, Doraki bowed low, retreating. “It shall be done, Your Darkness. I shall send Cakgor this moment to bring them.”
“I hope for your sake you speak the truth,” returned Dorini, the green names leaping high in the throne room, illuminating her evil, malignant smile.
Soon the great roll of dull stone bells and drums hastened Cakgor upon his way once more, and spiraling into the dark world like a shadow, he silently sped toward the valley where he had stolen Dwarf away in his sleep. He had never known the Queen to be so angry before, not since her last imprisonment by the Circle, and his leaden heart beat faster to think of his doom if he failed her command. He must be quick and deadly to defeat Fairingay, and there would be no element of surprise this time. That hateful beast would be waiting for him, and his heart quailed at that meeting. Cakgor flashed out with his great claws and tore asunder a passing wind, then flaming into the still hour of night, he assumed the form and smell of death, great oozing body showering fear and destruction as he flew, and as he passed over parts where men still dwelt, their hearts turned to icy fear and they fell before his awful presence, and still onward he hastened, the fear of Dorini raging inside of him until the very sunrise of the new day was blotted and dimmed with his coming, ever faster, until great green reddish sparks flew before and behind him, circling closer and closer to the valley of the cursed dwarf.
Otter, far below, saw the dark form showering hideous sparks and hurried on away from its presence, and Bear, close behind Otter, shuddered at seeing the dark shape so harshly glowing as it crossed the sun, darkening it for a moment.
Falling upon the valley shrieking, Cakgor sent out a slimish green-colored breath that deadened wills of man or beast, that drowned them in a waking, nightmare-ridden sleep and made all but the most powerful his prisoner, to do with as he liked. Birds tumbled from their high perches, numbed. Animals stood frozen, helpless before this doom shroud. With a rending, splitting crash, Dwarf’s door burst its binges, and Cakgor leapt inside, breath on fire, Scorching wood and earth alike into a black, ashlike heap. This sudden, terrible assault rang like a hollow tomb upon the empty, scarred house. No defense confronted Cakgor, no counterspell to defy him. His black heart grew inside him to think he had slain the hateful Fairingay in his slumber. This would please Dorini. This time there would be no escape for the puny magician, for her power this time would hold him frozen forever in her death breath, imprisoned, alive, helpless, tortured through all time. He burned the bedroom door from its posts and entered. Fire and destruction, they were gone. His breath reeked of ash and scorching, searing icy flames. Great billows of thick, dead smoke rose against the morning. He sought the dwelling places of Bear and Otter. And after a time, he found Bear’s cave entrance, enraged and in a great shrieking fury, cast down Bear’s door into a thousand pieces, filling the cavern and all the tunnels with the green, nauseous, evil gas. Nothing, no one. Shrill and deadly came his cry of failure, and Otter’s river turned to sheets of gray ice as Cakgor crossed it, devouring Otter’s green dwarf door as he came. There, too, he found all deserted, just as Otter had left it only hours before. His great dumb brain filled with rage and failure, and he scorched and burned, and broke into a wall of shooting green-yellow flames, leaving Otter’s dwelling ravaged and wracked in his fury. His one thought was that they had fled after Dwarf’s capture back across the River to safety, where he could not cross, for Klag and Forg had done so, and recrossing, were consumed in a horrible agony of doom. Whirling and spinning, he rose upward, setting green fire to the woods nearby, and the shining river was clogged with debris from falling tree and rock, and all living within Cakgor’s fearful passage were burned or suffocated by the fury and death of his anger. Racing away to report these evil tidings to Her Darkness, and to explain away his failure, he crossed a great battle, waged below him in a deep green jungle. He passed close upon the fight; and all there slew themselves with a great fever burning away their minds, and with a greater fear upon him, he sped away to the darkness. He must convince Dorini that the fault lay with her evil prince, Doraki, and that if anyone most be punished, it should be he, not the loyal and trusted Cakgor. If Doraki had been cunning, he would have the lot of them prisoners now. For that mistake he must pay, not the loyal and trusted Cakgor.
The sun burst forth once more behind his passing, and the day breathed its relief. The war went on upon Atlanton Earth, but without purpose, no dark hand close by to guide it, and babies once more nursed from their mothers, and living things yet grew.
The darkness was only half complete, and there still burned the bright rays of sunlight and hope.
Mankind
Two lonely, smoking lamps marked the town as Otter crept softly forward onto the road that split the green valley m half like a winding white ribbon. Upon both outer walls sentries stood, tall men with strange high helmets upon their heads, and farther up, wild dogs were turned loose at dark to keep anyone, man or beast, from coming on the fortified town without first being announced or eaten. Speaking the words and repeating the ritual, Otter felt himself assume the awkward man shape. He looked down at his new, unfamiliar body and sighed. No trace of fur, no remains of tail could be found. He was of man now, and afraid. Trying to adjust his walk, he held himself from his usual trot, and approached the main gate of the city, hungry and tired, and not knowing what reception his presence would bring at so late an hour. He had moved to within hailing distance when a low, harsh voice rasped out.
“Hold and speak your name and business.”
Otter blurted out in his own language, “Peace, friend. I’m of Animalkind and only need a bit of water, and a morsel, if you have it to spare.”
“What’s that he says?” came another thin voice from behind a dark wall.
Otter realized that in his excitement he’d merely made a series of chitters and whistling sounds that these men were not likely to understand. Struggling, he fell into common speech.
“I’m called Otter, friend, and seek shelter and food for the night. My journey has been long, and I’ve passed through great danger.” _ Otter stopped, trying to remember what he’d said to see if it were correct.
“Step into the light, stranger. If you have arms, leave them on the road.”
“I carry no weapon, friend, but my walking stick.”
“He looks fishy to me,” came a dry voice from a low guard shack. “And what’s he doing on this road by night?”
“He’s got nothing about him to harm us. Come, stranger, step in and identify yourself and your errand that carries you abroad this road so late at night. There’s been no well-meaning traffic upon this road for more than two years now.” The first man beckoned toward the guardhouse, and followed behind Otter into a well-lighted, comfortable room.
There were many firearms and other weapons all about the walls, a low, broad table, a cooking fire, and common mess plates for the men who were at duty there.
Otter studied the men figures more closely in the light. He was ill at ease, and his natural distrust held him quiet a moment. All were dressed in a like fashion, a uniform of sorts, with many pockets, and a design of a coat of arms upon their left shoulders. The man who had followed him into the building was tall, but of slight frame, with a steady gaze, and somehow Otter trusted this man. He thought of Froghorn Fairingay when he looked into his eyes, and it was to this man Otter spoke.
“I’m of waterfolk, mostly a mender by trade. I’ve journeyed out seeking a powerful man that lives beyond the mountains. I travel so late because the urgency of my errand is great, and all speed needed. I’ve come quite a long way since early this morning, before sunrise, have been beset by werewolves, and now seek shelter and a bite to eat, if you have it If not, a corner to sleep in, and “I’ll be on my way come dawn.”
“I suppose you would, taking all our defense plans along, right back to those who sent you.” The thin voice came from a dark-faced man who stood against the doorframe, cleaning his nails with a long, evil-looking knife.