Terror At The Temple (Book 3)

by Craig Halloran

  But what did they want with me and these two men?

  My voice was dry and raspy, but I managed to say, “I can get you out of here.”

  Both men stiffened and huddled down.

  “I said, I can get you out of here.”

  The young man started to speak.

  “Don’t talk to him, Son. He might be that demon the innkeeper spoke of.”

  “I’m not a demon; I’m a man, same as the two of you,” I said. Sort of… “Now, do you want help or not? Ugh!” I slunk onto the cage floor. My stomach was killing me. I needed healing.

  “What happened?” the young man asked, pressing his face against the bars.

  “Son, be quiet!”

  “No.” The young man was adamant. “I won’t be. Sorry, Father. That man over there is offering help, and we need it!”

  “But, I just—”

  “I’m a man as well as you, Father. I’ll live with the consequences of my actions.”

  I made it back to my knees and said, “Good for you. Now, tell me, how many of these enforcers are there?”

  “I’m not sure, but there’s a lot of them.”

  “Thirty-Seven,” the father said.

  He’d turned to face me now. Unlike his son, he was a barrel-chested man. The torchlight reflected dimly from the top of his head.

  “How many of you in the village?”

  “Almost a thousand,” the father said.

  Accounting for women and children, that didn’t leave enough men to fight off a group of well-armed men. Fear doesn’t wait long to rule.

  “How long have they been here?”

  “A few months. They showed up two days after we found the vein of Golden Ore. All the celebrating would have woke the Dragons up. It’s no wonder they showed up so fast with all the blabber mouths in this village.”

  I’d seen it happen before. If you didn’t hire a well-armed force, the goons would quickly take over. Greed and treachery grew like weeds in Nalzambor. Better act quickly, before the roots got deep.

  “And the Jackal? Where does he stay?”

  I needed to find out where my gear was. It was the only way.

  “He lords it over everyone in the day and diminishes in the night. He’s wicked.”

  “He’s crafty, “ the father added. “Dangerous. Something very strange about that fellow.”

  I’d sensed it, too. Something behind the man’s eyes was raw, primeval.

  The men jerked in their cages as the barn door slid open. Renny and Brock stepped inside, along with some of the other enforcers.

  “Cover them cages,” Renny said.

  “What if they scream?” Harvey said.

  “Oh yes, we can’t have that, can we? Alright, gag these two, but the demon over there, he’ll need more of the poison. Shoot him up, Brock!”

  I could barely move already when Brock came, a sharp stick in one hand, a vial of Uken poison in the other. He dipped the stick in the ointment, laughing.

  “Be still, Freak! Else I’ll poke it in your eye.”

  I remained still. He stabbed through the bars. I tried to dodge, but caught the full force in my Dragon arm.

  “Did you stick him good?” Renny said.

  “Real good.”

  I didn’t hear anything else after that as my imprisoned world faded away.

  CHAPTER 12

  The wagon lurched to a stop, and I awoke. It was still dark, but I knew I was outside because the breeze brustled the cover over my cage. Depressed and sick, I had a good idea how my brethren Dragons felt. I had to escape, but I needed help.

  “Almost time.”

  It was Renny, the leader of the Enforcers. Footsteps were all around, and I could also hear footsteps going up and down.

  “Take the covers off. The Jackal will be here any moment, with company. Look sharp! Especially you, Osclar!”

  Where was I? I felt the bump on my arm where Brock had jabbed me. It wasn’t as bad as the one on my neck. I think the Dragon scales had something to do with that. It had been more of a reflex than anything else when I made him hit my Dragon arm. I hadn’t meant for that, but maybe my arm had. And my head was a little more clear than before.

  “Get over here, Harvey! Let’s take this cover off and get started. Heh-Heh! Won’t be long now before the fun starts.”

  Fun for him, maybe. Fun for me? I didn't think so.

  “Sure thing, Boss. Sure thing.”

  The first thing I saw was the moon peeking through the clouds. Then I could smell the Enforcers' rancid breath.

  “Huh, he’s awake,” Renny said, rubbing his chin. “Not sure the Jackal will like that. Harvey, let him know.”

  “Alright,” Harvey said, strolling off.

  I was inside a wooden fort, but I had a feeling it was designed to keep people in rather than out. Catwalks ran twelve feet high from one corner to the other. Enforcers with spears and swords guarded every corner and the space in between.

  “Welcome to our Arena, Demon,” Renny said. “The final resting place for you and many others on Nalzambor.”

  I locked my eyes on Renny and said, “And possibly yours as well.”

  He stiffened, said, “We’ll see about that,” and walked away, casting one glance back.

  Entertainment! That’s what I was. I remembered the Orange Ruffie battling the trolls. It turned my stomach, the cruelty of men.

  “Go ahead and take those other two out,” Renny ordered his men.

  The farmers were pulled from their cages and the cages pulled away.

  “Alright everyone. Get up on the wall. It’s time for the battle to begin.”

  The father and son shook at each other’s side.

  “Please! Mercy enforcers! At least spare my son. I’m the guilty one!” the father begged.

  The son looked at his father, a sad look in his eyes as he said, “You stole, Father?”

  The father shook his head and replied, “Son, they stole from us. It’s our land and our Golden Ore. These vultures have no right to take what is ours.”

  The Enforcers tossed down two shields and two clubs.

  “I don’t know how to fight, Father.”

  “Neither do I, Son.” He hugged his boy. “I guess we’ll have our first and last one together,” the father said, picking the weapons up.

  “Together then.”

  Renny shouted from above.

  “That’s the spirit!”

  “Here he comes, Renny,” Harvey said, looking over the backside of the wall.

  The Jackal emerged from behind a wall and stepped onto the catwalk. My sword Fang hung at his hip. My breast plate armor adorned his chest. My bow. My quiver and my pack. Infuriated, my heart thundered in my chest.

  But he was different. His face was no longer that of a man, but an animal’s. A Jackal’s.

  “I see everything is in order,” The Jackal said, yellow eyes glowering at me. “I see our guest is bright eyed and bushy tailed. No matter.” He fingered his claws over my sword. “Nothing I can’t handle if need be.”

  A were-jackal. Another cursed man, like myself, but more like Corzan: corrupted by the evil. I felt a sliver of fear inside as I wondered if they’d both been good men once. I wondered what was in store for me. I rubbed the white spot of scales on my hand and vowed to do more good, given the chance.

  “Farmers!” the Jackal yelled, the moonlight shining brightly on his face, “the time has come that you paid for your deceit. I told you when I came: what’s yours is mine and mine alone, yet you stole. You sought to warn my enemies. And now you must pay.”

  The father and son trembled. Nalzambor was full of wonders, but I was certain they’d never seen a were-jackal before. Lycanthropes were evil. And there were plenty of stories and legends about them tearing people limb from limb. I could only imagine what was going through their minds at this moment.

  “It’s not much sport, is it?” I managed to say.

  All eyes were on me. Good.

  “But, I guess this is ho
w cowards play,” I added.

  The Jackal leaned on the rail and smiled, his sharp teeth dripping in the moonlight.

  “Oh, the do-gooder speaks. Interesting. And I can only assume you are going to talk and talk until it’s over. Well then, I’ll let the games begin. Enforcers, have at them.”

  Renny, Harvey and Osclar climbed down the ladders, while two more posted themselves at the top. The farmers readied themselves as more clubs and shields were tossed down from above.

  Renny picked up his club and twirled it in the air.

  “This won’t take long. Watch my back, fellas.”

  The farmers shuffled back.

  “Come on; take a swing,” Renny said, sticking his chin out. “I’ll give you a free shot.”

  The father’s swing sailed over Renny’s head.

  Renny walloped him in the stomach, doubling him over.

  The son caught Renny in the shoulder.

  “Ow! You two idiots! I said to watch my back!”

  Harvey and Osclar attacked, swinging hard and fast at that young man. The son gathered himself behind his shield, but they beat it down.

  Wham! Wham! Wham!

  The son folded like a tent.

  Rushing to his son’s aid, the father screamed, “NOOOOOO!” He huddled over his son, but the blows kept coming. I felt sick in my stomach when the men stopped, laughed, and walked off. There was nothing worse than seeing the work of evil first hand.

  “Excellent, men!” the Jackal said. “Now that the warm-up is over, it’s time for the real fight to begin. It’s time to see how tough our visitor truly is. Let him out!”

  CHAPTER 13

  Run! That’s what I needed to do. But not without my gear. And I couldn’t abandon these people. I had to do what I had to do: stand up and fight for what’s right.

  I took my time getting out of the cage. My limbs were sluggish, and my head was full of mud. But I could move at last, and maybe I had my Dragon heart to thank for that. Father had said it could do wonderful things.

  Above, the Jackal stood, arms folded over his chest, all of my gear in place. It made me wonder if I was looking in a mirror. If that was what I would become if I didn’t get my act together, then I had better try, and fast. Dark, primal, animal. That’s what Corzan had called me, an animal. The Enforcers had said I was a freak and a demon. Sorrow and anger mixed in my stomach as I reflected on all I’d done wrong over the years. Holding my stomach, I shuffled forward and glowered up at him.

  “I’ll be needing my gear back, Lycan!” I said.

  He sneered at me. They didn’t’ like that word, Lycan. But I didn’t like the words Demon, Freak or Animal.

  “I didn’t come here to entertain your talk,” he barked. “I came to watch you die. Take him!”

  Clubs raised, Renny, Harvey and Osclar came at me.

  Stomach in knots, weaponless, and with a dizzy head, I forged into battle.

  I jumped over the three of them and darted for the farmers. They breathed, barely. I wrapped my fingers around both of their clubs, banged them together, and said, “Come and get me!”

  They stopped, eyes wary.

  “Fools! Take him!”

  They screamed as they charged.

  I cracked Renny in the jaw. Osclar in the head. Harvey in the knee.

  Three down. Ten to go.

  I smacked the clubs together and said, “Who’s next!”

  A wave of nausea assailed me, and I sank to my knee. The more active I was, the more the poison attacked my system. Drat! I had to fight it. I had to make my body do what it did not want to, or I was going to die.

  I rose to my feet.

  “Get the swords!” the Jackal yelled. “And get in there. You. You. You and You!” All the enforcers eyed the Jackal.

  I smiled. All I needed was a blade. I could cut them to ribbons. They knew it.

  “No! Just use clubs. And more men. You! You! You!”

  They scrambled down, clubs and bucklers ready. That battle with the first three had taken a lot out of me. Suck it up, Dragon!

  They came.

  I swung.

  They swung.

  Back and forth we went, them chasing me from one side of the fort to another. I dodged, poked and parried. Where one fell, another popped up. A hard shot on my back knocked me to my knees. I ducked under the next swing, clubbed one in the chest, another in the knee.

  Hard wood cracked. Shields smacked. Alarm and pain cried out.

  I took a shot in the back of my head and pitched forward.

  Whop! Whop! Whop! Whop! Whop!

  They beat me like a drum.

  I roared out.

  “His eyes!” one said, backing off.

  “He’s a demon!”

  A spark. A fire. An inferno came. My head cleared. My muscles loosened. I could see my reflection in the nearest man’s eyes. My own eyes flared briefly with life. The effects of the poison fizzled out.

  I cracked the clubs together.

  “Let’s try this again.”

  They ran. I pummeled.

  I caught one in the chin. One in the nose. One in the jaw.

  I laughed. It felt good to laugh and swing. Torment those crueler things. A minute later, not one man stood except me.

  I looked up at the Jackal and said, “So, what happens when you run out of men?”

  “I’m not concerned about that. Get in there, Brock!”

  Brock, all eight feet of him, hopped down into the arena like a big ape. Well armored, he carried a spiked mace with a round head in one hand and a heavy chain in the other. When he stretched his arms out, it looked like they stretched from one side of the fort to the other.

  “I see you’ve grown since we last talked,” I said.

  His lip curled over his teeth as he came forward.

  “My, what an awfully long stride you have. Have you been eating Golden Ore? It’s dirt you know. Is that why you grew so big?”

  Swack!

  I ducked as the chain licked out over my head.

  His mace rose up.

  His mace came down.

  I dove away.

  “I’m going to turn you into a mud hole,” Brock said.

  The mace and chain were like toys that he wielded like a child. A vicious child. The kind who plucks the wings off fairies.

  He charged. I ran. He swung. I dodged. I ducked. I dived.

  I could hear the Jackal’s high-pitched laugh. Evil, condescending. I cast him a quick glance. He was twirling one of my Mithril arrows in his clawed fingers.

  Brock’s chain whipped around my legs and jerked me from my feet. I rolled as his spiked mace came down, clipping my arm.

  “You’re as big as you are inaccurate—Goon!” I said, whacking him in the hand.

  He roared, releasing the chain. His mace came down, and rolling over the ground I went, kicking the chain from my feet.

  “You are going to die!”

  Brock swung.

  I blocked. The impact of his hit jolted my elbows and ripped one club from my hand. The next blow was fast. I ducked. Brock knocked a small hole in the wall.

  “What!” he cried out. The mace was stuck in the wall.

  I swung the club full force into his elbow.

  Brock howled like a banshee. I cracked one of his knees, then the other. Down on his knees he went. Tears filled his eyes as he screamed.

  “Stop! Please stop it!”

  I did not. Evil never showed me any mercy, so why should I show it?

  I struck fast.

  Whack!

  Hard.

  Whack!

  On the final blow, I used both arms.

  CRACK!

  Brock fell face first into the ground. A red lump on his bald spot quickly formed.

  Chest heavy, I said, “How’s that treat you, Knothead!”

  Above, the remaining enforcers gawked.

  “Who's next?” I said, twirling my club around my back and front.

  Every hair on my body lurched. Move, Drag
on!

  I felt my back catch fire as I spun to the ground, wounded, bleeding.

  The Jackal loomed above me. Fang glimmered in his hand.

  “You fight well against mortals. But you’ll die against the power of the supernatural!”

  CHAPTER 14

  A predator. A tormentor. The Jackal was a towering figure. Broad shouldered, strong and supple. An animal with the cunning of a man, the killer instinct of an animal. And Fang dangled in his evil grip. I never would have imagined I’d die on my own sword's blade. Backpedaling, I danced, and the Lycan's swift strokes licked at my skin.

  “You are fast for a big man,” the Jackal said. “But, not as fast as me. I have supernatural speed. Skill. I’m your superior in battle!”

  I laughed.

  “You call this a battle? You wield a fine sword, and I use a club. Ha! You’re letting my weapon and my armor do all of your dirty work, you over-sized rodent!”

  “There is no honor among jackals!” he said, talking a swipe at my gut.

  I jumped away.

  “Or Lycans, for that matter.”

  The walls of the fort were closing in, and the Jackal was quite a sight as four feet of razor sharp steel hung in his fist. My steel that is.

  “It’s sad to see your men are so much braver than you. At least they had the courage to fight with what they had, not with what the enemy had given them.

  Fang sliced the top off my club. Drat!

  I snatched a shield from the ground.

  Wang!

  The Jackal struck, jarring my bones. Again and again he tore at my shield, making pieces of metal and wood scatter all over.

  “Coward!” I yelled. “Fight fair! What are you scared of?”

  Krang!

  “Your men are watching you. When the day comes, what will they think of you?”

  Chop!

  Only the straps and a small strip of wood remained.“Will they respect you? Will they follow?”

  The Jackal stopped. I fought for my breath. He was little winded.

  “I tire of your mouth. Perhaps it’s best that I tear your throat out.”

  With a flick of his wrist, he tossed Fang to the other side of the fort. He stretched out his arms and extended the long nails on his fingers. I’d never fought a Lycan, but I once saw one break the neck of a dwarf with his bare hands before. And there wasn’t much that would kill a lycan except the pierce of silver or magic. I’d bought some time, but I was still a dead man without Fang.