A Chink in the Armor

by D. Robert Pease

  Job yanked his sword from the sheath at his side and charged over the rocky boulders, into the heart of danger.

  The beast opened its wings and pulled up from a dive. Razor sharp talons the length of Job’s arm reached forward and plucked a horse from the ground. Without any effort, the creature hoisted the flailing charger over Job’s head and flung it over the cliff behind.

  Job continued to scramble down the slope, with Zophar right behind. Burning flesh assaulted his nostrils as he assessed his men.

  “To the cut!” He pointed to the trail where they had ascended. They had to get some protection from this horror.

  His men ran, some helping the wounded.

  Job turned to see the creature, the behemoth, pivot on a wing pointed at the ground.

  “Stand!”

  As a unit, his men turned and raised their weapons, swords and javelins held firm toward the sky.

  The shadow plunged at them and the creature smashed into the soldiers. Swords shattered against the hardened scales of the beast’s underbelly. Javelins splintered into sawdust.

  Job lunged forward, but the behemoth launched back into the air. Again Job yelled, “To the cut!”

  Three men remained motionless on the ground. Job shoved his sword into its sheath, grabbed a brute of a man, hefted him over his shoulders, turned and ran toward the cleft in the rock.

  Zohpar grabbed another man, and two soldiers pulled the third.

  Just as Job made the relative safety of the rocky cut, the creature wheeled around for another attack. Job dropped to a knee and gently laid the soldier down. The man’s face was deathly pale. Job didn’t like the man’s chances.

  “Down the trail, as far as you can,” he commanded his men. “But don’t forget the waiting army below. I doubt they’ve gone far.” He turned back toward the shelf of rock and drew his sword.

  All his life, Job had considered the world his to conquer, from taming the wild stallion to fighting ferocious lions—even riding out the fiercest storms at sea. Never had his faith in his own resources waned—until today. For the briefest moment, his footsteps faltered, but Job, who had never known fear, pushed it aside and strode forward.

  Momentarily losing its prey, the behemoth circled overhead.

  With each step, Job’s confidence grew. I am the Hammer of the South. None can stand before me. He caught a flash of steel to his left and right.

  Zophar and Eliphaz walked beside him.

  “No, my brothers. This is not a fight you can win.” Job stopped and looked upon his friends. “Against this beast, no mortal can stand.”

  Their faces fell, but both men fought to suppress the relief their eyes betrayed.

  “Do not allow shame to color the courage you have displayed this day.” Job reached out a hand and placed it on Zophar’s shoulder. “The gods have decided to send their vengeance upon man. Who would not quake in the face of such as this?” He gestured toward the creature circling above.

  He locked eyes with Eliphaz. “You must lead our men to safety. Inform our forces to the south that the retreat was a ruse. I can only guess they drew us here to be slaughtered by the teeth of the behemoth.”

  Zophar and Eliphaz nodded. With heavy steps, they retreated back down the trail.

  A roar filled the air like thunder.

  Job turned to answer the behemoth’s call. He stepped from the shadow of the cliffs.

  Moments later, the creature spied him and folded its wings. Like a great, burning star, the monster fell and spewed forth fire.

  Job leapt toward a hollowed-out area under boulders to his left, rolling under the rock a moment before fire engulfed the ground where he had stood. The hair on his raised arm burned off. Blinking spots from his eyes, he scrambled out from under the boulder.

  The behemoth landed with a great crash, and the ground rippled out like waves in a pond from a thrown rock. Job was hurled to the ground as the creature turned its great head toward him.

  He pushed himself into a crouch, his sword ready. The behemoth watched from thirty feet away, unmoving for a moment and for the first time Job got a good look at the creature.

  It sat back on its haunches—a great, golden tail wrapped around its body. Job couldn’t gauge the behemoth’s size, sitting as it was. The head sat on a neck taller than an ancient oak. It had four legs—the front pair more like arms, each with deadly talons. The rear legs were like the massive trunks of a cedar, but built of muscle that rippled under a mail coat of impenetrable scales. Its vast wings, not quite furled, beat slowly against the air as it waited like an enormous cat, ready to bounce.

  Job would not give it the chance.

  He leapt to his feet and feinted left, then ran right.

  The great head swiveled to follow him, but the behemoth did not move.

  Job charged forward, expecting the creature to vault into the air at any second, or belch forth fire, but it did not.

  Job swung his great sword overhead and smashed the blade against the underbelly of the beast, where he assumed it was weaker. The sword rang out as if striking against granite, and pain rippled up his arms.

  The behemoth thrust its head toward him, opened its great mouth and roared.

  Job staggered back under the onslaught. More powerful than any foe, the sound beat upon him. Rows of teeth, longer than his own sword, sliced the air just a few feet above his head.

  The behemoth swung a clawed hand at him, and he spun out of the way, narrowly avoiding being cut in half. He brought his sword up in a feeble attempt to parry the next attack, all the while searching for a weakness—for a chink in the armor.

  He found none. The behemoth’s scales were sealed tight.

  Job slashed behind the knee but his blade bounced off. He battered against the creature’s tail but not even the slightest scratch appeared.

  He danced around as the behemoth took swipes at him, brushed him aside with the back of its massive hand, roared at him, and swung its great tail, sending huge boulders flying.

  As the minutes passed, he realized the behemoth was only toying with him. There would be no victory today.

  No. I cannot believe that!

  He fought on. Sweat poured from his body and his breath came in great heaves. Fire burned in his arm where the arrow remained embedded.

  There must be some weakness. Nothing; be he man or beast, he is without a flaw.

  “Enough!” A rumble shook the ground.

  Job stopped and locked his gaze on the creature above him.

  “Who strives against me as a raindrop before the ocean?”

  Job’s sword fell to the ground with a clang. After all he’d struggled to comprehend—an army appearing as if out of the ground, a beast from legend coming to life—he found the creature speaking to be the most difficult to accept.

  “Can a moth challenge an eagle?” The behemoth sat back and lowered its head toward Job, lips curled back. “Does fire burn inside your stomach? Does smoke pour from your nostrils? Have you circled the earth in search of any who could stand against you, only to find you alone are without equal?”

  The behemoth pummeled him over and over with its voice, until Job feared his head would explode from the barrage. Each word stripped away years of glory. Each syllable proved him the fool.

  “When have you witnessed the sun rise over the ocean to the east, and set over the ocean to the west on the same day?”

  The creature’s eyes narrowed. “The whirlwind is my playground. The hurricane my sport.”

  Job lost his last shred of confidence. He dropped to his knees and wept. Who am I next to such power? My whole life has been a lie.

  “I am a worm,” he whispered.

  A deep rumbling chuckle boomed forth. “The creature speaks.”

  “I—”

  “Silence!” The behemoth flattened Job to the ground with its voice. “Who dares come before me? A worm you say?”

  Job kept his face buried in the mud, waiting for the final blow to come.

 
“I was told a great warrior was coming. The Hammer of the South.”

  Job looked up.

  “Ah, so you have heard this name?” Again the behemoth laughed. “A man feared throughout the lands. A warrior of such strength, armies flee his coming.”

  The creature bent its head down to just a few feet above him, and sulfur burned in his nostrils.

  “Have you heard of this man? This great warrior?”

  “I… am—”

  “Surely not you.” A chuckle began in the fiery depths of the behemoth and rolled out like a storm.

  No weapon could cut more deeply than that laugh—full of disdain and loathing for lesser beings.

  “How quickly you grovel. The mud suits you.” For a long moment, the beast considered him. “I grow weary of you. Stand!”

  Job’s heart raced. Never before had he feared for his life. In truth, he had felt touched by the gods—invincible. Battle after battle he’d waded through the fire, only to come out unscathed. A wall of protection had been placed around him from the moment of his birth. Now, as he struggled to his feet, the thrill of imminent death washed over him. He had dreamed of making such an end—songs would be written about him—but he could barely bring himself to raise his eyes to the beast.

  “I wished to behold the greatest of men. Those creatures below said you were the one.” The behemoth nodded toward the cliffs. “The mightiest warrior who has ever existed.”

  Again that disdainful chuckle filled the air. “But you are nothing. In pride you came before me, flashing that impotent piece of steel. Your glory is at an end.”

  Each word smote down upon Job like a hammer. “Finish this!” he yelled.

  The creature gazed upon him, and then shook its head. “No. I will pay you no more heed. Man is nothing. A disappointment.” The behemoth turned.

  “No. Don’t leave me like this.” A great emptiness welled within him. Everything he’d done, all he’d accomplished, now washed away before the creature. He groped through tear-stained eyes for his sword, pulled it from the mud, and charged at the retreating behemoth’s back.

  “You cannot leave me to wither and die.” He slashed at the behemoth’s tail. “Fight me.”

  Still the beast strode onward, up the pile of boulders toward the cliff.

  “I will not let you leave!” Tears filled his eyes. “Please.”

  The creature reached the edge of the cliff and turned its neck toward Job.

  For a moment his heart raced. Perhaps he would die after all.

  But the behemoth just looked at him, a sad smile splayed across its lips, then turned and leapt, disappearing over the cliff.

  Job scrambled to the top, intent on hurling himself after the beast, but he could not. Even that was denied him—Job the worm, incapable of the strength to cast himself over the edge.

  Fire sprang from the creature’s mouth as it plummeted toward the armies below. They scattered in every direction when the behemoth smashed into the ground. Even from this great height, Job felt insignificant against the sheer might of the beast.

  For nearly an hour, he lay on his belly and watched the spectacle below.

  The behemoth systematically pummeled the army from the North, until at last none stood. Then the creature turned north and thrust down its powerful wings. Within moments it was gone.

  The rain finally broke, and a ray of sunlight shone down on Job. He sobbed. The army, which had so easily driven him into the hills, was destroyed. Along with the desolation below, everything Job knew was gone. In his arrogance, he thought himself blessed by the gods. No, he thought he was beyond the gods, without need of such superstition. He had always triumphed, always exalted in his own strength. Now, he wept in the mud. Now, he knew the measure of himself.

  He was nothing.

  Job begged for the behemoth to return—to put an end to his misery.

  It did not.

  He heard footsteps behind him, and a hand pressed against his back. He turned, and the sunlight burned his eyes.

  “It is over.” Zophar reached down and extended a hand.

  Job accepted the help and climbed to his feet. His men stood around him.

  Eliphaz smiled and glanced at a small figure beside him: Bildad.

  “You—you live.” Fresh tears poured from Job’s eyes. How weak I must seem. He shook his head. What difference did it make now?

  Bildad stepped forward. “You’ll not be rid of me so easily.” The small man looked around. “Although, it appears I missed the action.”

  Job glanced toward the northern horizon. “The behemoth….”

  “Don’t worry,” Zophar said. “You’ll get him next time.”

  “No.” Job turned back to his friends. “Maybe some other man can find the beast’s weakness, but not me.”

  He put his arms up and gestured to his friends. At first, they hesitated, but then moved in to embrace him.

  At last, the four turned and faced the south. “It is time to go home,” Job said. “Our families await our return.”

  “And you’ve a bride to marry,” Bildad said.

  “If she’ll still have me.” Job shook his head, stepped away from the cliff, and left the desolation behind.

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  The book of Job is one of my favorites in the Bible. The idea that a man could go through such misery, the loss of his family, boils all over his body, friends who berate him, and still not lose his faith just amazes me.

  I found myself imagining what happened in Job’s youth to create the man we see in the Bible. At one point God challenges Job and describes an awesome creature that could only be described as a dragon.

  Thus the genesis of this story.

  What if Job was at one time an arrogant man, who was blessed by God beyond measure, but thought it was all of his own making? What if God sent a dragon to humble him? And that humbling turned Job into the man we see in scripture?

  Of course this is all an imaginative story, but still it’s fun to wonder.... What if...?

  Epic adventures filled most of D. Robert Pease’s childhood. Middle Earth and the planets of Dune were his stomping grounds. It’s not surprising he chose to write stories with worlds just beyond reach but familiar enough for readers to get lost in new lands with epic adventures all their own.

  D. Robert lives in the grey-skied world of Northeast Ohio with his wife, son, daughter, dog, cat, and a back yard pond full of goldfish. When not writing, he loves travelling the country in an RV and riding his bike up and down the hills of Ohio.

  Find out more at www.drobertpease.com Also, sign up to be the first to hear about new releases at www.drobertpease.com/MailingList

  If you liked this book, please take a moment to leave a review on your favorite online book retailer site.

  CLEOPATRA RISING

  A Joey Cola Novel

  Watch for the second book in this series of young adult fantasy adventures, coming soon from Evolved Publishing.

  ~~~~~

  As food riots engulf the physical world, and a battle for power consumes the dream world, sixteen-year-old Joey Cola must come to grips with his place in both worlds. Can he help save a planet on the brink of starvation? Should he seize power for himself and fill the void left by the missing Pharaoh?

  While on the run from assassins sent to kill him, Joey struggles to maintain his own identity and sort out his feelings for his best friend Alexandra and the exotic and mysterious Cleopatra. The princess may hold all the answers, but logic tells him she can't be trusted. Unfortunately, for the first time in his life, logic isn't in control.

  As the pull of the dream world grows, and the physical world becomes indistinct, will he be dominated by his lust for more power? Or will the love of his friends and family finally show him what is real, and what is just a
dream?

  An epic fantasy suitable for readers 15 and older:

  SHADOW SWARM

  This epic fantasy, with its cast of diverse and intriguing characters, is now available. For more information on this book, please visit the Evolved Publishing website.

  ~~~~~

  Aberthol Nauile doesn’t know that he once led legions in a war that had raged since the dawn of time, against an enemy that could not be killed. He doesn’t know that he rode on a dragon with his father, or that his mother died while giving birth to him. He doesn’t know that he once saved his great, great, great grandfather by defeating the black enemy on the slopes of a volcano.

  Aberthol doesn’t know that he beheld the creation of the world, as his grandfather eight generations before took the planet, ravaged by a war of the gods, and began anew.

  All he knows is that he awoke in a coffin deep within a tomb, and now the whole world thinks he is their savior. All he really wants to know is his name, and why he keeps hearing voices in his head.

  ~~~~~

  Praise for Shadow Swarm:

  “Having read other offerings from this author, I quickly found myself fully immersed in the story, unable to willingly set it aside for anything but short periods of time. The quality of writing was such that, as I tell my students, I was able to “see a movie in my mind”; a key, I tell them, to tell whether or not you’re encountering good writing. The development of the characters made them believable, realistic, and genuine.”—usafe7ret (Reviewer at Amazon)

  “I love how this story just sucked me in and took me to another land. The detail was perfect; I could use my imagination and felt like I was there. I loved the dragons and all the different species. I’ve since passed this book on and my friend loves it too!” — Cheshire Cat