Valkeryn 2: The Dark Lands

by Beck, Greig

  The crowd of Lygon roared in response, the anticipation firing up their lust for blood and combat. Eilif knew that every one of them would have given an arm to be out in the arena with the former rulers of the planet.

  Murdak spread his arms again, wide enough to gather all three of the Man-kind in at once. The larger Man-Kind pushed the other two apart, and he began circling to the left, while one other moved to the right. The third remained where he was with his hands up over his mouth as though trying hard to stifle laughter.

  Eilif shook her head. The agreement had been for no weapons, and this is where the Man-Kind found themselves hugely disadvantaged – they were physically smaller and less powerful than the Lygon, they had no real teeth or claws of worth. However, the Lygon general was the opposite. Murdak had claws and teeth that were daggers, and a formidable strength that would crush the soft bodies to a red mess if he got close enough. When he got close enough.

  Eilif looked around at the walls of the inner grounds. She remembered every alcove, nook, every ledge or carved piece of stone – there were dozens of crawlspaces and secret passages to hide in. She knew she could easily get to another area, or even far outside the castle… if only she could get free.

  She glanced across at Edward and Becky. Fleeing while trying to drag the two soft beings with her would be futile. She wished she had a blade – she could either saw through her bonds, or one of the wrists of the humans. She looked down working her wrist where it was lashed to the young human female. She could gnaw through the bonds, but it would take time, and Mogahrr continually glanced her way.

  Samson continued to jog around the outside of the arena keeping his eye on the huge Lygon. He kicked at the ground and dislodged a fist sized stone, and quickly snatched it up, holding it ready – his only defense. His comrade saw him and did the same, both now armed with the meager tools of the primitives.

  Murdak’s lips curled back; perhaps he decided he had drawn out the spectacle long enough, or he simply couldn’t resist the blood lust burning within him anymore – he charged straight ahead.

  Eilif screamed a warning, but the lone Man-kind did little more than hold up a hand as if the giant would stop before him – he might as well have tried to stop a hurricane. Murdak leapt the last dozen feet, his bulk crushing the man to the ground. There came no sound from the human, even though Eilif was sure he still lived after the initial onslaught.

  Murdak got to his feet, dragging the soldier with him, huge claws dug deep into the flesh. He flung the rag-like body side to side, striking the ground over and over again. Eilif could feel the impacts through the soles of her feet.

  Eventually the body of Ramirez was soft, and red marks painted the ground on each side of the Lygon. Murdak held the smashed remains up, looking into its slack face momentarily before flinging it into the crowd. It was shredded and consumed in seconds.

  Murdak turned, his orange and black fur taking on a silvery sheen as the moon broke through the clouds. Immediately the tall human warrior looked up at it, and closed his eyes, drinking in the luminous glow. He looked down at his arms and Eilif guessed what he was experiencing – the same effect that Arn had felt. The moon’s glow somehow transformed them, making them more than what they were.

  Murdak charged again, but this time both men moved faster than he anticipated. As Murdak pursued them around their arena, they outpaced him – the larger one, the one called Sam-son, looking back to taunt the Lygon. Behind Murdak, the dark haired human caught up and flung a stone that struck Murdak’s back, making him howl with pain. He, too, seemed to feel the strange energy coursing through him. He seemed surprised by the pain he could inflict on the much larger creature.

  As the massed Lygon jeered Murdak, and he spun, his huge chest bellowing as he watched the pair. Sam-son jogged back to his fellow human, and quickly spoke to him.

  While they were distracted, Murdak took the opportunity to attack. He charged, covering the length of the arena in seconds. The speed surprised both Man-kind, and the smaller of them stumbled. Sam-son paused to look at his companion briefly, before shrugging and trotting away.

  The Lygon was on the fallen man instantly, and this time the man’s scrams were loud and agonized. Sam-son came in from behind and threw his rock, the small projectile crashing into the Lygon’s head – painful but far too small to be debilitating to the giant fur-covered beast.

  Murdak turned to glower, but immediately went back to his second prey of the night. He lowered his head to the fallen man’s torso, and ripped away most of the chest. The screams shut off instantly.

  At the other end of the arena, Samson dug in the dirt. This time his effort was rewarded by a rock nearly as wide across as he was. He levered it out of the ground, and then grunted at the effort to lift it. Eilif grinned; this one, this stone, could make a difference. This stone could kill a Lygon.

  Murdak looked up, his bloody snout dripping and his jaws trailing greasy entrails. He saw Samson approaching and seemed to smile. The Man-kind carrying the stone looked more like some sort of two legged worker ant, overburdened, and struggling just to hold the boulder aloft.

  Murdak waited a few more moments, watching the human approach. Then in one swift movement he swept up the body beneath him and flung it. The loose boned corpse struck Sam-son across the chest, bringing him down. Before Samson had even been struck, Murdak had launched his attack. He leapt, one huge arm held high and the hand curled into a fist. Murdak’s plan was obvious – obliterate the hated creature, starting with its face.

  The crowd of Lygon roared and beside Eilif the queen leaned forward her face split into a black grin. Murdak’s fist came down almost faster than the eye could follow.

  Samson caught it.

  The arena fell silent. The disbelief on the Murdak’s features was almost comical. How had a creature half his size been able to stop a blow that should have crushed his head?

  Samson held on, his teeth gritted, straining. But he held on.

  The moon shone brightly now, lifting high and lighting the arena. Murdak brought his other arm around, only to have it to grasped and held… but not for long. The arms were gradually pushed back.

  Samson’s gritted teeth showed whitely, and the strained grimace started to turn up into a grin of triumph. His own strength was surpassing that of the massive beast he fought. Faster than Murdak could react, Samson let go of one of his arms, and jabbed a finger deep into one of his luminous green eyes.

  Murdak’s head went back and he howled in pain, clutching at the damaged orb. He rolled away, shaking his head momentarily stunned. By the time he had regained his senses and vision, Samson was back, standing in front of him, the huge stone once again held in his hands.

  The Man-kind grinned. The arena was in stunned silence. Just Samson’s voice carried to Eilif.

  ‘Hey, head’s up.’

  The Lygon roared, they all roared, and Samson brought the stone down like a comet upon the thick skull. Both the rock and skull exploded. Becky and Edward cheered and were jerked roughly to the ground by the Panterran.

  Samson looked up at Mogahrr, and then placed one foot on the body.

  ‘Did I not tell you?’ He laughed and began to beat his chest, making a strange sound. He stopped, glared at Mogahrr and raised his arm, a single finger thrust upward.

  ‘I am the slayer of beasts, the skinner of cats, the baddest bad-ass on this planet.’ He raised his face to the moon, inhaling deeply, and sucking in its glow.

  Mogahrr half rose from her seat, white-hot fury in her gaze. She spun left and right, before pointing one taloned hands to the ranks of Lygon.

  Samson threw his head back, laughing, his hands on his hips. ‘Another? Let them come.’

  Once again the crowd of brutes parted. This time the creature that bulldozed his way through was a head taller than Murdak – a mountain of gna
rled muscle. Eilif’s lips drew back from her bared teeth. She whispered the name.

  ‘Goranx.’ Her eyes were riveted, and she couldn’t help her fists balling. Before she left for Valhalla, she prayed that Odin allowed her the pleasure of seeing this monster’s head separated from its body.

  Mogahrr’s taloned finger went from Goranx to Samson, and then to the centre of the arena. The giant Lygon’s glowing green eyes fixed on the human, as he stepped out into the cleared space.

  Samson opened his arms wide, revelling now in the battle, confident from his win, and enjoying his new strength.

  Goranx immediately charged. Insanely, Sam-son charged to meet him. Regardless of the strength of the human, he was outweighed five to one, and physics just wouldn’t allow the smaller body to hold its ground under the mass and momentum of his opponent. They landed hard and slid, Goranx on top.

  Eilif did not know this Sam-son, but willed his victory with every part of her being. Becky had her hands over her face, and Edward stared in horrified fascination, but his hands were clasped in an unconscious prayer for success.

  Just as it had been with Murdak, Goranx’s blows and rakes of his talons were caught and held. Samson held on, and even leaning forward now, roaring into the larger Lygon’s face. The strain made his face flush red, but the unnatural strength of the smaller being was unbelievable. Mogahrr hissed, clearly becoming unsettled.

  She turned to the ever-present Orcalion and nodded to the Panterran archers. A word from him, and they readied their bows. It seemed win or lose for the human, his fate would be sealed.

  Samson laughed, and just as Goranx was being physically lifted, pushed back like Murdak had been, the huge Lygon arched forward, extending his neck and opening his cavernous mouth wide. The massive jaws lined with ivory daggers fully enveloped the human’s head. There came a sickening crunch, and Samson’s arms dropped. Blood arced into the air, and Goranx turned to spit the head from his mouth. Becky threw up, and Edward sat down hard.

  Goranx got to his feet, dragging Samson’s headless body with him. He held it aloft as he walked around the arena’s perimeter. He stopped before Mogahrr, threw it to the ground, and placed one of his huge feet upon it, crushing down hard.

  Mogahrr grinned and nodded. ‘And to the victor, goes the meat.’ She laughed, turning her yellow eyes on Eilif momentarily, and then reaching out to stroke Marion Briggs’ head. The Delta Force colonel stood as if in a trance, but there were tears on her cheeks.

  Chapter 29

  Never Give Up

  Arn landed hard on the slippery shell of the giant crustacean, quickly grabbing on to the serrated edge. Its black bulbs of eyes retracted and it immediately started to submerge, Arn guessing more from surprise than pain. He held on, following it beneath the water, the beams of moonlight the only illumination in the inky black river. At ten feet down his breath gave out and he kicked away, breaking the surface and shouting to Grimson to get to the bank. If the young Wolfen was safe it would give him some comfort to know it was only himself he needed to worry about.

  He shook the hair from his eyes and trod water, spinning about – the youth was nowhere to be seen.

  He swiveled again – there was no sign of him along the bank. He must have made it… please let him have made it, he prayed as he started to stroke towards the rocky shoreline.

  Arn swam hard, but now understood why Grim might have had trouble making it to the shore – in close the current was strongest, creating an eddy that pushed him back from the land. The moonlight continued to bathe his body, giving him more stamina than he should have had, but still, his progress was slow and he was tiring.

  To his horror, he saw two long black bulbs pop to the surface. The twin periscopes approached for a moment, and then vanished. Arn knew that below the water something as wide as a truck was closing in on him with a pair of claws large and sharp enough to cut him in half if it got him in its grip. Something bumped against his ankle, and he spun – there was nothing on the surface, but that didn’t mean the giant thing wasn’t directly below him by now.

  He looked to the land – still too far. He would have had trouble fighting the thing on the shore, but if it came at him from below, he was doomed. He tread water, panic setting in – it seemed the choice was not going to be his. Arn pulled his knife.

  The periscopes reappeared and then a small island rose next to him. Arn felt his heart race.

  ‘Not something you ever encountered, huh grandfather?’ He held up the small knife, the blade shaking in his hand.

  Never give up, a small voice whispered.

  Huge claws lifted from the water, bumps and serrations on their inner edges for gripping and cutting meat. Arn quickly searched for vulnerable spots on the glossy armor. Depressingly, there were none.

  ‘Fight it, Arn’. A voice – this time, not the whisper of his long dead grandfather, or perhaps his inner mind, but a young one he recognized. Grimson.

  He wanted to turn to look for the youth, but his gaze was locked on the leviathan as it loomed over him.

  Never give up-never give up-never give up.

  A net flew out of the dark and fell across the giant crustacean’s back and raised claws. It was immediately pulled tight by rope lines connected to the shore. Voices were raised in triumph and then in straining grunts as the thing tried to firstly rip the netting from itself, and then pull back into deeper water.

  A rope was tossed to Arn and he was pulled through the current to the shore. A hand was offered – a human hand. He looked up into the face of the girl he had seen earlier.

  ‘Too late for swimming, I think, yes?’ Strong white teeth showed in the dark.

  Arn climbed out, feeling his muscles twitch from the previous exertion. He straightened, and saw that just behind her stood Grimson grinning, between two males, who were barely taller than he was. Arn stood a head above all of them. The expression, small but perfectly formed came to mind.

  ‘Human… you’re human!’

  ‘Hu-man?’ The girl looked perplexed.

  Shouts came from the water’s edge and he turned to see that a dozen small humans were being dragged closer to the edge of the water.

  She slapped his shoulder. ‘Come.’ And then pushed him towards the rope. ‘We must all pull the mugrab from the water – it will not be easy as it has many strong legs.’

  ‘Why do you want to get that thing out of the water?’ He shook his head, but grabbed one end of the rope. He continued to look at her. ‘But how did you get here? No, no, forget that. What happened to everyone… to us? Where did…’

  Her voice sharpened. ‘Concentrate.’ She slapped him again, and then made a tugging motion. ‘If the mugrab gets our warriors into the water, they will be taken. Pull, pull!’

  Grimson grabbed the rope behind him, and Arn looked over his shoulder and winked. ‘Let’s do it.’ He sucked in a deep breath and pulled. It reeled in a few feet and he moved his hands forward and pulled again, and then again, actually turning the huge crustacean in the water.

  Arn could feel the moon’s electric-like energy flow through his body and it seemed to deliver to him as much combined strength as most of the warriors on all the other rope lines. Instructions were yelled, and one by one, they abandoned the ropes closest to him, and gathered their forces on a single rope to balance his herculean efforts.

  Foot by foot the rope came in, and then one enormous sharp leg daggered into the flat rocks at the water’s edge. There was nothing for it to grip onto and it continued to slide towards them. More legs came up, and then the thing gave up its tug-of-war fight to stay in the water, and clambered up to face its tormentors.

  Still meshed in the net it towered over all of them, sea grasses, sponges and barnacle type shells crusted to its under-body – it was a moving island, fifty feet around and easily that high again. A strong sme
ll of silt, decay and stagnant water enveloped them. The creature tugged at the ropes entangling it, and tried to feed some of the strands into continually moving mouthparts that looked like a pair of circular saws moving over each other.

  Arn shuddered. If the tribe hadn’t arrived when they did, he would more than likely have been fed into that mouth right about now.

  More instructions were yelled, and the tribe fanned out with multiple ropes, keeping the mugrab in place. They brought out spears – long poles with black, fire-hardened tips. Many were seized by the creature and snapped like toothpicks. Jabbing at it did little more than scrape some of the slime from its thick shell.

  There were more shouted instructions from the woman now pacing behind Arn, and other members of the tribe threw piles of twigs, and then larger branches, beneath the thing. A brave soul sprinted forward, tipped some liquid onto the piles and then rolled away, to the cheering of his fellows. Another warrior came in fast, rolled again, and stopped at the woodpile. He struck at something like a tinderbox. A tiny flame appeared to dance in the centre of the mass, and then spread along the liquid. He too rolled out to the delight of his tribe.

  In a matter of seconds a twenty foot circle of flames was created beneath the mugrab. The crustacean became frenzied, and tugged more forcibly against the ropes. Arn felt his feet slide, and saw that many of the men were being dragged from their feet and some even flung aside.

  One of the natives had the misfortune to roll in too close, and was snapped up by a claw. His screams were cut off in an instant when the giant biological shears came together cutting him in two… and to Arn’s horror, none too neatly.