Looking to the Chief, the Knight signaled for him to make ready. Now crouched and stalking forward as to not alert the pack, the Knight looked for the dominant female. The youth swatted and swung his branch hitting the beasts repeatedly but to no real effect. Suddenly, largest of the grinning devils snapped its jaws upon his makeshift weapon and wrenched it from his hands. With no weapon, its fellows dashed towards him! Leaping backwards, the youth somersaulted away from their slavering jaws landing on the cart next to the now screaming old man. As the hyenas yipped angrily at their prey’s evasion, an abrupt death-yelp burst from the dominant female. The hyenas turned to see another two-legged beast land atop the completely surprised female only to witness its head severed just above the jaw line!
Having used the forward momentum from his leap, the Knight drove the edge of his shield through the largest hyena's head only to stop deep in the moist soil. Before the nearest hyena could react, a flick of his arm saw the long fighting knife buried deep within its body. Off to his side, the Knight heard the Chief’s spear claim another of the pack as he leaped forward with a blood-curdling growl. With a strong pull, the Knight freed the shield which pinned the dominant female to the ground in death accompanied by an ill sucking sound. By now, the remaining hyena’s were in full route except for one.
The Knight turned to see the fierce glowing eyes of the Dominant Male as they caught the rays of twilight. The Knight knew exactly why the beast stood with raised hackles, bared fangs and murderous intent. Putting down his shield and sticking the Great War Spear’s haft into the ground, the Knight slowly stepped forward and said, “I too would want blood for my mate. Come see if you can take it.” All eyes locked upon the two adversaries as they stood stock still. The hyena no longer cackled for only a long growl escaped its jaws. The Dominant Male took in the two-legged creature as its eyes would not turn away in submission. Infuriated by the two-leg’s defiance, the hyena charged and then leaped ready to tear out the two-legged male’s throat!
The Chief ready to throw his own spear, watched in amazement as the Knight side-stepped the beast. In doing so, the dark-skinned warrior threw his brawny arm around the hyena’s neck and outstretched forelegs which was followed by the loud report of breaking bones. The hyena stared out with eyes wide in death for it had been so quick as to not allow a final rattle. The Aesir Chief stood with eyes agog after so skillful a kill. “Damn this will make a fine drinking tale!” Before the Knight could reply, out came the high and low pitched cracking voice of the youth. “Eh, that wasn’t so much! I had them all ready for the kill until you two showed up!” Looking away from the rude adolescent to the frightened old man the Knight inquired, “Are you well Old Father?” It was the youth who answered. “Ah, he’s all right.” Not one to suffer children disrespecting their elders the Chief interjected, “No one was talking to you boy. You should show your thanks for having your young hide saved.” Now with dawn in full bloom, the painted youth looked at the Chief and said, “Wow! Where did you find this one? His skin is white as old bones! And look at his hair! How much did this slave cost you?”
Just as the Chief’s lips drew back baring his teeth at the youth’s suggestion, the Knight cut in saying, “You are being rude boy.” The youth turned to see the cold expression on the warrior’s face and he jumped back behind the cart and said, “Whoooo! You are scary!” The Chief drew near the Knight and said, “The Priestess won’t mind if I stab him will she?” Flashing a rare grin the Knight replied, “I’m not sure. But accidents do happen.” With a toothsome grin shining through a red-brown beard the Chief said as he drew his sword, “I think I can manage an accident just fine.” The youth looked from the Knight to the Chief and back to the Knight then hastily said, “Great sirs, you have shown me my behavior has been poor and I beg both your pardon! I humbly thank you for saving our lives!" Satisfied, the Chief looked to the Knight and asked, “Does that work for you Sir Knight?” Giving a single nod while looking directly at the painted youth the Knight replied, “Apology accepted.”
After the Knight’s inquiries were made of the Old Father called Oboae and the Youth named Qatula it was revealed they were both traveling with a caravan on its way through the deep desert to a great city by the sea. It was one night midway through the journey that Qatula noticed the Old Father had walked out into the desert while the caravan slept. Thinking to bring the old man back, the youth borrowed a small pushcart to make it faster to return since the oldster was so feeble. Searching the better part of the night for Old Oboae, Qatula found him among the dunes crying about wanting to return to his home ‘in the valley’ before his death.
Despite the Old Father’s protests, Qatula put him on the pullcart and rushed back. Unfortunately just before the dawn, the caravan had packed up and left without them! Unable to catch up with the caravan, the pair were lost and eventually were caught in a sandstorm. The next morning they found themselves by the riverside and Old Oboae pointed down river only to utter, “My Valley.” Since then, the Old Father had not uttered another word and had been growing weaker with each passing day. Looking to the Knight Qatula pleaded, “I beg you sir, help me fix the cart and lead me to the valley he spoke of!”
The Knight pondered their tale carefully. It was not implausible considering he too had wandered into the Valley from the desert after being separated from his own caravan. The Aesir Chief and his men also found the Valley after being lost at sea and crossing the desert. In fact, all of the people living in the Valley could trace their ancestry back to someone who had been lost and made their way here through the wilderness. Then there was his wife’s warning to ‘use his best judgment’ when it came to dealing with the traveler. However, there were two traveler’s instead of one. One an old man wanting to return to his homeland before death and the other a simple youth trapped by his good intentions. The Knight’s first thought was to help the old man as it was unlikely anyone else would come this way soon. A moment passed and the Knight replied, “Fine. But we’ll leave the cart behind. It will be simpler to carry the Old Father.” Qatula was about to say something and then remembered his manners as the pale-skinned hairy giant moved to lift the frail old one from the cart.
“All right old-timer, here we gooooof!” exclaimed the surprised Chief. By all looks the near jet-black graybeard could be easily carried with one of the Chief’s strong arms. Yet, no matter how he tried the former seafarer couldn’t so much as budge Old Oboae from the cart! “Odd’s blood! What sort of trickery is this? I’ve pulled ship’s anchors that weren't as heavy!” The Knight’s eyes narrowed at the prospect. He’d come to know the Chief well enough to be sure the man would play no pranks at so serious a time. The Knight had also come to know that when dealing with his wife’s world, nothing was as it seemed. Just to be certain, the Knight stepped forth and tried to cradle the old with no success. Looking to the youth, the Knight saw him barely holding back his laughter. Doing his best to hold his anger in front of the Old Father the Knight asked sharply, “What mischief is this boy?”
© 2011 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.
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