by Owen Black
Clotch was the weaker one, the youngest and most sensitive. He had a knack for getting into trouble and was a bit clumsy at times. His frailties aside, he was the most obstinate of the three and was rarely frightened, almost to a fault.
Watching his brothers struggle to catch up, Splotch grew concerned. Clotch was injured but even Blotch had grown weary. They had apparently pushed themselves too hard on their journey and it had begun to show. There was no choice, they needed to rest.
Splotch peered through the trees hoping to find shelter and spotted a cluster of rocks half way up the hillside ahead. It looked like a cave and because of the things that tended to lurk inside of them, caves were generally thought of as bad.
He looked for alternatives but the forest provided little in the way of protection from the downpour. The winter had stripped the majority of the leaves from the trees and they had not seen any other suitable areas to stop for some time.
Splotch pondered their situation for a moment then sighed. They had to check it out.
“Alright boys we need to rest for a bit!” Splotch yelled as he wiped the rain from his face. “I’m going to run up ahead and check out those rocks. It might be a cave so hang back a bit until I see if it’s clear.”
His brothers looked at one another. Of the words that made his kind shiver, cave was near the top of the list. Although the possibility of stumbling upon a den of carnivores existed, they desperately needed a place to duck in from the rain.
Splotch made his way through the trees, slowing his advance to a crawl as he approached the cave. Amidst the downpour, with the sound of rain striking the ground all around him, his footfalls were muffled except in his mind, where each step seemed to break a false silence that made him cringe with every twig and leaf that he encountered. Sweat mixed with rain and fear nipped at his mind.
When he neared the mouth of the cave Splotch slowly peered through the water that fell across the entrance and was immediately surprised by an unexpected sight. Sitting huddled on the ground and tightly gripping a thin dark cloak around her body was a pale woman with emerald green eyes that stared back at Splotch. The look on her face was one of equal shock as she had clearly not expected company.
The woman had a narrow face and she appeared to lack hair atop her head. In fact, she lacked eyebrows as well yet despite these detractions she remained attractive, even alluring. She projected an aura of innocence, likely because she appeared young though by no means a child.
The cave was small but its depth could not be determined from where Splotch stood due to a discomforting blackness that lingered in the space behind her. Although he could not tell if any dangers lurked farther within his apprehension was calmed by the shivering and frightened woman that nervously backed away from the entrance. Surely if anything lurked deeper it would have come for her by now.
A hand on his shoulder nearly forced Splotch to leap from his skin. He spun around and brushed the touch away before he realized that his brothers had joined him. Amused by his reaction, their laughter forced a red glow that surfaced on his now sour face.
“Jumpy are ya?” Blotch asked, amused.
Splotch scowled and whispered, “I told you two to wait back there.” He tilted his head in the direction of the cave opening, forcing his brothers to take notice of the woman peering out at them.
“Well now, what have we here?” Clotch asked as he gingerly took a few steps toward the entrance.
“Stay back,” Splotch said as he held out an arm to stop his brother. “We don’t know if she is alone.”
“Oh come on now, it’s pouring out here,” Clotch argued. “We can share the space with her for a minute.”
Splotch winced as he spoke. He knew the woman could hear them although he was not certain she could understand what they said. She appeared afraid and backed into the cave farther.
Blotch ignored the debate and took a step forward. He looked at the woman, smiled and said, “It’s alright. We’re not here to hurt you. We’re kangaroos if you know what that is. We are just tired and want to come in out of the rain for a bit. Is that ok?”
Unsure of what to expect, the brothers waited as seconds slowly slipped by. The quivering woman then nodded her head shyly. Splotch wondered what tragic events had left the woman in her present condition.
Ignoring caution, Clotch quickly ducked out of the rain and into the cave, shaking the water from his clothes as he entered. His brothers looked at one another equally alarmed by the sudden boldness from the usually more cautious of the three.
“Hold on a second,” Blotch said over the sound of falling rain. “Let’s find out what she is.” He then turned to the woman and asked, “What is your kind might we ask? Sorry, just to be safe.”
The woman slithered back into the cave a bit, her radiant green eyes staring back at them as she appeared to consider her reply. At last she spoke in a soft, wispy voice, “Don’t be afraid children. I am just a mouse. Come in out of the rain.”
The brothers all broke out in laughter but the woman offered no reaction. This was not the first time they had been mistaken for children. Their lack of height and inability to grow facial hair had left them in a permanent state of youth.
“You’re safe here, come on little one,” she said to Clotch. “That wound must surely hurt.” She then motioned for Clotch to sit on a rock beside her.
Her cryptic words worked their way through his mind as Splotch considered what they should do. The woman must have spotted his brother’s limp as they approached since the bandage was hidden beneath his trousers. That had to be it, but what if she had smelled it? Only the bad things had an enhanced sense of such odors. It then struck him that she had not answered the important question that had been posed. His hand slowly crept to the hilt of the sheathed sword hanging at his side. Something was wrong.
“Come on Clotch,” Splotch urged. “We need to be going.”
His defiant brother ignored the request and lowered his aching body to the rock near the woman and took off his backpack.
“I really can’t go any further,” Clotch said. “Come on boys, you are getting soaked out there. Come rest a minute.”
Sensing the danger, Blotch looked at Splotch who was standing next to him near the cave mouth then said, “Come on! Don’t be such a donkey. We need to go.”
Without warning, a sudden rush of movement spilled forth from the dark recesses of the cave. Countless pale figures crawled from the shadows, a collection of arms and legs and fiery eyes that shone like torches as they moved from the blackness. Like the woman, they lacked hair and their bodies were thinned by hunger and although human in form, they did not run or walk, rather crawled on all fours in an awkward yet frightening manner. They had been lurking in the dark, silently waiting for the right moment to strike.
When the attack began, chaos ensued.
Clotch turned toward the movement and scampered to his feet. Unable to balance on his injured leg, he lost his footing and plunged to the cave floor in a heap. He screamed and clawed at the ground in a desperate attempt to escape while the woman lunged for his legs.
“Help me!” Clotch begged as he kicked with his feet.
Blotch ran in from the rain and grabbed his arms and tugged with all of his might while an eerie mixture of screams and hisses spilled from the cave depths. Her companions were drawing near and more were close behind.
Without thought, Splotch drew his sword and charged into the cave, hoping to stall the attack long enough for his brother to be pulled free. He could not tell how many were scampering toward them but such concerns did not linger in his mind. His only thought was for the lives of his brothers.
Splotch reached the woman and kicked her squarely in the head, breaking her grasp on Clotch’s legs, allowing Blotch to pull him free. With the tension now released his brothers tumbled from the cave and down the muddy hillside where they disappeared from view, the only evidence of their existence being the yells they produced as they fell. At least they h
ad escaped.
The occupants of the cave reached Splotch and descended upon him in a swarm of hostile fury. He felt their cold arms and legs all over his body as he thrashed and fought, at times striking without aim. He knew the cave opening was just a few feet away if only he could reach it.
Calling upon his deepest strength he worked his way closer, closer until he could almost reach the entrance where the rain fell from above and provided a translucent portal to his survival. He was going to make it.
A sharp pain then erupted in his calf, different than the throng of punches or kicks, something deeper, a shooting sting that made him scream in agony. He looked down and saw the head of a long, dark limbless creature attached to his leg, peering up at him with emerald eyes that were frighteningly familiar. The woman was a snake. What fools they had been.
Splotch kicked the serpent free and dragged his attackers closer to the opening as an adrenaline-fed fury overcame him. He hacked and slashed with every ounce of energy left within him while a flood of screams and hisses filled his ears. He detected the voices of his brothers and his only thought was on getting them to safety.
“Run!” he yelled. “Run now!”
In just seconds his body had grown numb but Splotch somehow fought on, pushing, willing his way forward. Through the horde of grabbing, clutching bodies that jumped him his fingers at last touched wet rainfall.
He was so close. Just a bit farther. He sensed freedom and then, like a beacon of hope, through the mass of writhing flesh he saw his brothers standing in the rain. They were yelling and reaching for him, crying and screaming, their faces fraught with panic.
He could not hear their words, the screams and hisses of the assault had blended with the rain and deafened his ears. He tried to call to them but his throat was somehow choked from within. His dear brothers reached for him but then backed away as if shocked by the swarm that had engulfed him.
Splotch felt his energy fade and his will dampen. He wanted to sleep, let it all go away. The pain, his suffering, he longed to let it end. He had no choice but to give in to the desire forced upon him by the poison that now flowed through his veins.
He felt the load atop him lessen when one of his attackers started toward his brothers. With the last of his strength, Splotch dropped his sword and grabbed the wiry man by the ankle, sending him crashing to the ground. He held tight with both of his hands, a difficult task after the man changed to a snake in an effort to slither free.
“Run!” Splotch gasped weakly. “Run!”
***
When at last they could run no more Clotch and Blotch came to a halt. Exhausted and overcome by grief, they collapsed to the muddy ground crying as the merciless rain continued to pelt them from above.
Sitting on his knees, the pain of his wound momentarily forgotten, Clotch pounded the ground with his fists. He hated himself for going into the cave. It was his fault that his brother was dead. He should been the one left behind. Splotch was the strongest of them, he wasn’t meant to go first.
The brothers shared a bond greater than their mother ever could have hoped and memories of their adventures flashed in Clotch’s mind as he struggled to grasp the reality of their loss.
“We have to go back!” Clotch yelled as the rain mixed with tears and trickled down his cheeks. “We can’t leave him in there!”
Blotch sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “You saw how many there were. He was right to tell us to run. He saved us. Even in the end he saved us.”
Clotch was overcome by emptiness. They had always been three and he knew no other way. He could not imagine going on without Splotch.
Blotch shook his head and stood up. “Come on, we need to keep moving. They will come after us.” He held out a hand and helped his brother to his feet.
Clotch brushed off his pants and said, “We need to go home.”
“We will after—”
“Not Avryndale. Our home. We can’t do this.”
The brothers stood quietly for a moment as the rain continued to fall upon them. They were numb to the world.
Lost without Splotch, their once clear paths were now clouded by despair. Blotch took a deep breath and then nodded.
Chapter 32
Crouched low and embraced by the familiar touch of darkness, only the watchful eye of the moon could detect the cunning wolf as it crept silently through the cold high grass. The creature moved with the slightest of steps as each paw was gently placed, each breath slow and calm and each beat of his heart no more quickened than if he was sound asleep, dreaming of a future life with his one true love.
Always cautious, Mordigal took in every detail before making his move. Sitting in the middle of a large flat pasture, the perimeter of the stables was still and quiet. Though none were yet visible, he knew the area was guarded by an assortment of brutes, most likely playing cards, drinking ale or tormenting some of the residents of their master’s favorite prison. Mordigal was quite familiar with the stables, having visited many times over the years, either borrowing or returning horses as required for his various duties.
The main area was a field roughly two hundred feet in diameter and surrounded by a tall wooden fence. Although easily permitting escape when in human form, the fence served its purpose since the captured horses were locked in equine form by crude, yet painfully effective horseshoes. The guards checked the shoes each night and any sign of tampering or attempted removal resulted in severe punishment by branding or other, more torturous, means.
Located near the gate that sat just outside the eastern edge of the fence was a dilapidated building that served as the sleeping quarters for the guards. A dim flickering light was visible seeping from the shuttered windows, confirming his initial thought that the building was indeed not empty.
When last Mordigal had visited, the stables contained just over fifty horses, but as he moved closer it seemed a good deal more had been corralled. The reason was obvious. War drew near and Fatalis was gathering more for his assault.
The only comfort in this chilling thought was that they had guessed correctly and the attack would wait until the winter months had passed. Unfortunately, their trip to the stables had taken nearly three weeks and time was now working against them.
The wolf stopped and sniffed the air. A rush of information filled his mind as the scents he detected from his surroundings were quickly deciphered into visual images. The smell of the grass and the thick trace of the horses and their manure scattered about the pasture were quickly discarded as he narrowed his focus. Human perspiration was detected behind him. It was Caballus, hiding in the grass where they had discussed.
A faint breeze tickled his nose and carried with it more evidence of his surroundings. There was a hint of ash in the air from a recent fire, various fragrances from wild flowers and the unmistakable smell of man urine that lingered to his left. None of these odors were of importance. Filtering them from his thoughts, he concentrated on finding the stink of the unseen guards and in a matter of seconds he knew for certain that a few were in the building.
Mordigal quickened his approach with his tongue tasting the air as he ran. A skilled stalker, he made no sound as he moved in. Death approached unseen.
His once composed heart began to pound. His blood rushed. An innate hunger tugged at his stomach. He needed to kill. He longed for blood.
He stopped twenty feet from the door to the building and crouched down into the high grass, instantly vanishing from the world. He sniffed the air again. Someone was outside, likely around back, hidden from view as he had approached.
Remaining at a distance to remain concealed in shadow, Mordigal crept to the rear of the structure. He suddenly stopped when he saw a thick specimen of a man seated on a chair with his back against the building. His eyes were open and focused on the surrounding fields. This was quite unexpected. The guards were generally too lazy to be on active watch. Fatalis must have warned his men.
Even more surprising was that Mordigal did n
ot recognize the guard. He was likely a newcomer to their ranks but no matter his origin, with his animalkind unknown, Mordigal would have to proceed with caution.
He considered his options carefully. If he approached from the side and was spotted, the guard would likely yell and warn the others. Straight on was clearly not an option so he had no choice.
The wolf glanced up at the moon then lowered himself to the ground, muttering a soft whimper of disappointment. The night was still young and surprise was his ally. He needed to wait for the ideal moment to strike.
The minutes ticked by at an agonizing pace. Each moment spent in his wolf form drove him deeper into an unwanted bloodlust. The cravings denied by his human will became insatiable. His stomach growled and his mouth filled with saliva.
Suddenly the guard stood up and stretched his arms over his head. He was of medium height and adorned in ratty clothes but carried no visible weapons, a fact that generally meant his animal form was deadly enough. His hair was dark and his face blanketed by a thick beard. His stink was unmistakable. Mordigal moved in.
***
The guard briefly scanned the fields around him, his eyes unknowingly passing over the very grass in which a wolf had been hiding just moments before. He then walked away from the building and strolled into the fields allowing the tall grass to consume his legs up to the hip. He stopped a few feet in and tugged at his trousers.
Moonlight covered his face as the guard gazed into the night sky, looking over countless stars while a strong wind ruffled his hair and swayed the grass around him creating an intoxicating series of gentle waves. It was a glorious night indeed. He moaned with relief as his bladder began to empty.
Lost in his surroundings, the guard sensed no danger. He did not fear the unseen wolf as it gracefully ran towards him, he was not aware of the unheard shift from beast to man that occurred in an instant. At peace in that moment, his world was content.