by John Ringo
The combined weight of the deer and the tiger stopped the horse in its tracks, nearly throwing it on its side. This time Herzer managed to get his hand free in time but the rope burned through his hand painfully. He kicked Diablo into movement again and then turned to look at what was going on behind him.
The tiger had stopped on the carcass of the deer, looking around at the people and horse with a baleful glare. After a moment it crouched on top of the deer and let out a roar.
Despite his mount’s rearing and shying Herzer managed to get it stopped and turned. Whispering to it he uncased the bow and pulled out an arrow. It was a clap shot if he could just get the horse to hold still for a moment; he wasn’t about to dismount under the circumstances. He lined up the tiger and let fly just as Alyssa fired from the other vector.
His arrow flew into the tiger’s chest just under the neck but one arrow, even driven from a compound bow, wasn’t going to stop the beast and it turned around, snarling, wondering what had hit it. He fired again, before Alyssa and the second arrow drove into the tiger’s ribcage.
It took three arrows from him, and more from Alyssa, before the cat finally stopped spinning and hissing. Herzer stayed where he was, though, and waited until a pair of hunters came out from the fences and prodded at the beast with their spears.
“Good shooting,” Alyssa said, cantering by.
“Thanks,” he responded, taking a moment to catch his breath and soothe his upset horse.
All things considered, he decided that it was best to keep his bow out.
While the excitement had been at his end of the corral, more animals had been filing into the area delineated by the fences. He saw some cattle and some absolutely gigantic deer that had to be the wapiti that Kane had talked about. They were nearly the size of the female cows and had antlers in velvet forming on their heads.
“Bull herd,” Kane said. “Kill ’em or drive ’em to the corrals.”
They were so magnificent he didn’t want to have to kill them but when the first one entered his sector and he tried to drive it towards the pens it took extreme exception to the idea and reared on its hind legs, waving sharp hooves at the horse. Backing Diablo, who clearly wanted to show who was boss, he somehow drove three arrows into the deer’s chest almost as fast as he could draw and fire, and the magnificent bull dropped to its knees then rolled over on the side.
He wasn’t about to try to drag that monster so he waved to some of the men along the fence and went out looking for something that would actually drive.
The massive corral was starting to get crowded with animals by this time, all of them angry, bewildered and driven half mad by the smell of blood that was starting to permeate the area. But it didn’t get really bad until the herd of pigs disgorged into the area.
The pigs had apparently stayed in their herd and Herzer had no idea that that many pigs were even in the forest, much less would stay together in a massive wave of tusks and smell. There must have been at least fifty of the larger ones and innumerable babies. Following them was a puma and then another tiger.
At the sight of the tidal wave of dangerous and deadly creatures most of the riders gave up any pretext of trying to herd cattle and wapiti and instead looked to their own defense. Many of them headed for the gates along the sides, abandoning the field altogether.
Herzer was well to the side of the mass and he started firing arrows for all he was worth. With a couple of exceptions he wasn’t sure where they went except downward; he was being careful of the people on the far side of the fence. He saw more arrows coming from the few hunters with longbows along the sides of the fence but it wasn’t stopping the pigs. The tiger had disappeared — he hoped nobody had been hurt when that happened — but the puma was chasing Kane for all it was worth.
Herzer took two shots at the running puma and saw one hit, turning it, then either Alyssa or one of the hunters got a killing shot in on it and it ran a few feet and dropped. But by that time the pig herd had scattered and there were at least a half a dozen big, nasty, angry “pigs” in his area.
He shot two and then saw one making a beeline for the fence and Shilan.
He dropped the bow in the case, pulled out his spear and decided to see if he could actually stay on Diablo’s back at a full gallop. With a yell he dug his heels into the horse and pointed it at the charging pig.
It felt for a moment as if the world went sideways. The horse bunched its muscles and took off like lightning, so fast that he seemed to hear his own shouting doppler behind him. He realized he was screaming madly and trying to line up the pig with his spear but it was going to reach the fence first.
The six hundred kilos of enraged boar hit the rickety wooden fence at nearly thirty kilometers per hour and the fence didn’t have a chance. The nearest posts snapped off even as the poles shivered to pieces. On the other hand, the encounter had seriously shaken the boar and it stopped for a moment to shake the blood out of its eyes. But when it had regained its senses the first thing it saw was Shilan, thrown backwards and onto the ground from the backlash of the fence.
Herzer shouted louder, hoping that the sound would turn the boar but there was no chance, it lowered its head and charged the stunned girl.
He never even realized that the lance was lined up when it slammed into the side of the boar, nearly unseating him from the impact.
Diablo was charging headlong and when the boar, caught by the spear driven through it and into the ground, stopped dead, there was nowhere to go but over.
Herzer somehow retained his hold on the spear but let it run through his hand as the horse went up and over. The combined fulcrum effect threw the mortally wounded boar over on its side and definitely prevented it from getting to the girl but the branch at the top of the jump could have cared less. With complete indignity it impacted on Herzer’s forehead and flipped him back off of the horse in a welter of his own blood.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
When Herzer came to, his mouth tasted like blood and leaf mold and he had the world’s worst headache.
“Stay still,” a female voice said. He ran it through a long, slow memory search and realized it was Dr. Daneh. He hadn’t talked to her since he’d gotten to Raven’s Mill, which seemed a couple of lifetimes ago.
“Mrwf,” he managed to say.
“Can you move your legs?” she asked.
He complied, wincing when the concentration made him tense up his neck. His head was really starting to hurt.
“Good, fingers? Arms?”
He moved those then felt hands roll him over. He couldn’t see at first and that terrified him, but then someone poured water on his face and his eyelids got unstuck. Dr. Daneh looked tired and worn, even worse than on the trip, even worse than after her encounter with Dionys. Well, maybe not worse.
“Uh ne’ res’,” Herzer said then worked his mouth and spit out some leaves.
“Yes, you do need some rest,” she said and smiled. She used a small mirror to flash light in his eyes, which made him wince, but he noticed she nodded in satisfaction at whatever information she gleaned.
“Huh, uh,” he said, injudiciously shaking his head. “You need some rest,” he corrected.
At that she smiled again and t’chted. “I’m fine.”
“No ’ur not,” he said, trying to sit up.
“Wait,” she said. “You’re in pretty sorry shape yourself Herzer Herrick.”
“Gotta get back on the horse,” he said hoarsely. He pushed her hands to the side and sat up, wincing at the pain in his head and neck. He felt his forehead where a large patch was obviously bloody, and blinked his eyes, only then realizing that part of his vision problem was the blood and dirt encrusting them. He rubbed at them and got them mostly clear then started to stand, only to be hit by a wave of dizziness. He wasn’t sure if he could get back on a horse, much less stay on one. And he was pretty sure he didn’t want to, which only increased his determination.
“Help him up, Daneh,” a male vo
ice said. Strong hands lifted him from under his armpits and balanced him.
“Gotta get back on the horse,” he said again. He looked around painfully and saw Diablo standing only a few feet away. His vision was going gray, in and out, and the horse looked as if it was at the end of a tunnel but it still appeared to have a sheepish expression on its face. His knees buckled for a moment as he thought he might faint but then the wave passed and he was still standing. Painfully, but standing.
“I need to get you to the infirmary,” Daneh protested.
“He can get there on the horse,” the voice said. “You can ride with him and balance.”
“No, Rachel can go,” Daneh said. “I’m needed here.”
Herzer realized that the other voice was Sir Edmund but it didn’t really matter. With Talbot steadying him he got a hand on Diablo’s mane and a foot in the stirrup. With an effort that called forth another blinding flash of pain from his head he got up in the saddle and leaned forward, swaying.
“Got back up,” he muttered, his eyes half closed against the pain. He was back up but he didn’t know where to go or how to get there. He kneed the horse towards the corral and stopped when a hand clutched the horse’s bridle, nearly unseating him again.
“Not back to work, hero,” Edmund said humorously. “There’s others to take over. You’re for the infirmary.”
Rachel was hoisted up behind him and with her pleasant anatomy pressed against his back the horse was led off to the infirmary. Distantly he heard some cheering.
“Was ’at,” he muttered. He couldn’t be bothered to lift his aching head.
“You don’t know?” Rachel said with a note of humor in her voice. “I guess you don’t even realize what a spectacle you made of yourself.”
“Whah specac… spec?” he asked.
“Later. Right now we have to get you into a bed and get your face cleaned up. Be glad you didn’t impact your nose, it would be all over your face. As it is, I don’t know why you don’t have a damned skull fracture or subdural cerebral hematoma. And you just might.”
Herzer wasn’t sure what she was talking about. He wasn’t even sure how he had ended up on the ground. The last thing he could remember was shooting his bow at a puma.
Somehow he managed to stay on the horse until they reached an open-sided building where willing hands helped him down from the horse. Diablo was starting to show some tendency to shy but Kane turned up and took control immediately.
“Need to… curry…” Herzer said. He really felt as if he was going to faint again.
“Get in bed, Herzer,” Kane laughed. “You’ve done enough for one day.”
Rachel led him into the building, which was blessedly dim, and set him down on a cot. It was, for a wonder, well padded with something. She didn’t let him lie down, though, propping him up with pillows.
“Now, I’m going to get to work on this head wound,” she said. “Don’t pass out on me; that would be bad.”
Fortunately she had a gentle touch. She washed the wound with warm water, eliciting a flow of blood, then wiped it clean and put on a wash that stung. But the sting was nothing to the pain in his head. Suddenly, he realized he was about to vomit.
“I’m going to…” he started to say then paused as his stomach flipped over.
She quickly picked up a bucket and held it for him as he emptied the entire contents of his last week of meals. Or so it seemed. The vomiting also increased his headache.
“Okay, that’s normal,” she said, setting the bucket to the side. “You’ve got a concussion. Just sit there and rest. You might be doing that for a few days.”
He lay back on the pillows and closed his eyes against the limited light in the room as she brushed his clothes as clean as she could. He felt he really should be doing that himself but he was feeling really bad. All he wanted to do was sleep.
“Don’t go to sleep on me,” Rachel said, shaking his arm. “Damn, I’m going to either have to sit here or get someone else to.”
“Why?” he asked, tiredly.
“You’ve got a concussion,” she repeated. “If you go to sleep you might not wake up again.”
That was an unpleasant thought to say the least. And it managed to focus his mind on not sleeping. And other things.
“What were you talking about when we were riding over here?” he asked. “A spectacle.” Then he started to remember where he’d gotten the head wound. “Oh, Mithras. That must have been a funny sight,” he sighed.
“What?” she asked. She looked at his hand and tisked. “What did you do to your fingers?”
“I didn’t have a bow-glove,” he replied. He had been firing so fast he hadn’t even noticed the pain in them.
“They’re cut practically to the bone you idiot!” she said, starting to bandage those as well. “And I suppose you could say that it was funny, if everyone hadn’t been watching all your other antics.”
“Antics?” he asked.
“Herzer, you were all over the damned field on that great big war-horse of yours,” she said acerbically, “killing things left and right. It was a bit more than spectacular. You save Kane’s life at least twice, if not getting gored by an enraged bull counts as saving a life. Then to top it off was that insane gallop to save Shilan. I mean, you should have heard the gasp when you took off. You were halfway across the field before anyone else had even started to react, galloping so fast it looked like you were riding a jet-car, not a horse. It was pretty clear everybody who had a moment was watching to see what you’d do next. I heard people betting on you.”
“Oh,” he said, trying to cudgel his brain. Had he really been that noticeable?
“Everybody thought Shilan was dead with that boar coming down on her and then you go and not only stick the damned thing, you turn it over on its side. And then, as far as everyone could tell, get yourself killed. Nobody thought you were going to stand up after hitting that branch and you were out of most people’s sight. The applause was because you came riding out.”
“Oh.”
“Do me a favor, okay? I’ve got enough problems as it is. Stop trying to be a hero.”
“Okay,” he said, puzzled.
“I’ll go find somebody to keep you awake,” she said, standing up and brushing off her skirt. “In fact, I think I know just the person.”
Herzer closed his eyes and leaned back again but started when he realized he was half asleep. He wasn’t sure if Rachel was serious about not waking up again, but he didn’t want to find out. He also wondered how long the prohibition would last.
He opened up his eyes and looked around the dim room. There were a couple of other beds occupied but nobody close enough to talk to.
With the immediate problems settled and being at liberty for the moment, he started to catalogue his other hurts. His neck was killing him and from the description of what had happened he was surprised it wasn’t broken. Really, really, glad. Being a quadriplegic in this society would suck. He might as well get some friend to cut his throat. For that matter, he wasn’t sure if he could survive. Would he have been able to breathe?
After a few moments of such gloomy thoughts, he looked up to see Rachel and Shilan coming into the building. He started to smile and then noted that Shilan’s arm was in a sling.
“Are you okay?” he asked with a wince from a sudden stab of pain in his head.
“Just a twisted elbow,” she said with a smile, sitting down on the stool that Rachel had vacated. Rachel handed her a pottery jug and walked out with a backward wave.
“Are you supposed to keep me awake?” he asked.
“Awake but not active,” Shilan said. “It sounds like a prescription for total boredom.”
“Not with you here,” he said then winced at another stab of pain.
“And she said you probably wouldn’t want to talk,” Shilan added, pulling out a book. “So you just lean back and rest while I read.”
“Aloud?” he asked with another grimace. It felt like being a child
again.
“I doubt you’d want me to,” Shilan said with a chuckle. “It’s a book on weaving techniques. I was watching one of the reenactors the other day and I got interested in it. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a woodcutter.”
“I think you’d be wasted as a weaver,” Herzer said, leaning back and closing his eyes.
“I have to do something,” she said. He could hear the worry in her voice.
“Mechanical looms aren’t that hard to make,” Herzer said. “They can be run on water-power. And there are plenty of things you can do. Doctor comes to mind.”
“Thank you, no. I’ve seen too much of the strain that’s on Dr. Daneh. Not having access to nannites is killing her.”
“Is that what it is?” he asked.
“She lost a patient yesterday; one of the new apprentices working in the mill didn’t heed the safety warnings.”
“Shit.”
“I don’t want to face that, knowing that if I had the power I could save a life and then seeing it drift away.”
“Somebody has to,” Herzer said, shifting and then noticing he still had his bracers on. He opened his eyes and winced as he fumbled with the catches.
“Let me get that,” Shilan said, setting down the book.
He leaned back and felt her cool hands on his arms and fought down a strange tide of lust. It wasn’t the way he’d felt around her before and he wasn’t in any shape to follow through. For that matter, it was making his headache worse. He tried to think of something to reduce it but his head was too muddled to think. Instead he put out one hand and ran it up her arm, cracking his eyes open to see her expression.
Shilan briefly froze and her face froze so he quickly removed his hand. “I’m sorry.”