The twin swords of the Goddess formed a lethal duet, singing a song of blood and slaughter. The shrieks of dying Skags was the chorus and the Goddess provided the deadly direction in this violent symphony of combat. Skag infantry had erected ladders along the embankment to facilitate their ascent up the sloping earthwork. Norlunder arrows exacted a steep toll among the foot soldiers. But the latter’s numbers compensated and before long Skags and humans were locked in struggle atop the embankment. Norlunders and Skags, afflicted with mortal blows, toppled down one or the other side of the barrier. A majestic, armored cat swam in and out of this heaving sea of butchery ripping into Skags at will.
The sky grew darker and the howl of the wind increased in proportion to its gaining strength. The wind’s noise was a blessing and Tyler wondered whom he should thank for that bit of fortune. The Goddess? He gave in to a distracting grin before refocusing on the encampment ahead. Just as the human captives had described. He beheld a large tan colored tent in the middle of a constellation of smaller tents. Skag soldiers were scattered among the tents, but a large gathering were assembled on the far side of the camp at the summit of a hill. The top of the hill overlooked the Norlunder village where a siege was in progress.
Tyler saw humans in the camp as well. Bedraggled, defeated wisps of their former selves, slaves to Skag masters. The humans performed a variety of chores from serving food, to lugging kindling to feed the many cooking fires that glowed from tent to tent.
A Skag confronted a human slave, a withered old man bearing a large jug. The Skag held out a mug for the slave to fill. The man upturned the jug toward the proffered mug, but accidentally spilled a dollop of its content. Some of the liquid splattered on the Skag’s foot, not enough to polish a thumb nail, but unfortunately for the slave, just enough to provoke his master. The Skag looked down at his booted foot, growled an indignant remark and drew his sword. One swipe, punctuated by a hilt deep thrust and the old man crumpled lifelessly to the ground. The jug rolled out of the slave’s hand, but the Skag scooped it up before it emptied out completely. As the Skag put the jug’s spout to his lips, Olag, who had crawled beside Tyler in time to witness the murder, gritted his teeth. “I would see that spawn of a demon whore gutted like a diseased sow!”
“Yeah,” Tyler agreed, aching to implement that very fitting retribution. Discipline held him in place. He turned to look Olag squarely in the eye. “We have to stay focused, Olag. What we do here will avenge the crimes Skags have committed against your people.” Tyler rose to a crouch, removing a short wide bladed sword from his scabbard. A leather belt, fitted with small knives tucked into niches was draped diagonally across his torso. Village blacksmiths at Tyler’s request had forged the light, easy handling sword and the knives. Tyler pointed his sword toward the cluster of enemy soldiers at the top of the hill. “Our target is there. Follow my lead.”
Olag’s arctic blue eyed gaze transitioned from hot and smarting to inhumanly frigid. He motioned an inspired nod and rose.
Behind him one hundred and eleven handpicked warriors resumed their skulk into the Skag camp.
Surprise was on their side. Tyler and his chosen few sprang it with ruthless, terrifying precision. Three Skag sentries dropped where they stood, clutching blood spurting throat wounds before they knew they were dying. The Norlunders who dealt the fatal blows scampered fleet footedly away from their kills toward another set of idle sentries deeper into the camp.
More inattentive Skags went down in a blur of steel and crimson. Tyler ignored the takedowns, his attention fixated on where his feather light footfalls were leading him: toward the edge of the hill. Toward the soldiers clustered around their leader, the Jahon.
A muffled cry wavered through the air. The sound was just loud enough to override the wind and the clamor of a near distant battle…just loud enough to prompt a Skag at the fringe of the cluster to look behind him.
Tyler’s sword spoke, bloodily aborting the astonished shout the Skag was about to give. The outlander’s blade sank into a second Skag before the first one he dispatched had hit the ground.
Olag ran his heavy sword through the chainlinked back of a Skag, withdrew his bloody weapon and bashed another Skag in the face with his blade hilt’s iron pommel. The crushing blow caved in the Skag’s nose, leaving a blackened depression in the middle of his face as he tripped backwards.
The Jahon could not have chosen a better summit from which to observe and direct his warriors as they sought to overrun the enemy village. The battle was hard fought, but he could smell the sweet, ripe scent of impending victory. A sudden eruption at his rear cracked his concentration. The Jahon, his flanking generals, and bodyguards pivoted as one toward the source of the disturbance.
Through a barrier of bodies, the Jahon caught snapshot glimpses of sword and axe wielding Norlunders engaging his soldiers in a frenzied brawl. The Jahon’s admiration for the Norlunders’ clever attack on his camp competed with his rage at their brazen intrusion. The battle below would wait. He unsheathed a long shafted weapon with a broad axe head…an axe head that was still crusted with the blood of previous victims. Rallying his bodyguards around him the Jahon led a juggernaut advance toward the thick of the fighting.
Tyler ducked a sword swing, plunging the point of his own weapon through the side of his opponent. The Skag’s mortal cry was a murmur in Tyler’s awareness as he pressed determinedly toward where the Jahon’s scalp and skull standard loomed. He executed a pirouette like move, cutting down two Skags on his flanks. He savat kicked a foe in front of him, probably cracking the sternum as the Skag was propelled off his feet. A spearhead came at him. Tyler knocked the shaft aside with his sword, pulled out one of his small knives and flicked it. The blade embedded itself in the right eye of the spearholder.
Tyler withdrew another knife, tossing it underhand. A gleam of razor sharp metal flew into the open mouth of a Skag as he came at Tyler flailing a sword. The Skag’s robust battle cry spiraled into an agonized gurgle as he torpedoed forward. Tyler leapt over the body, slashing an opponent across the chest upon landing, then following up with a thrust to the gut. The dying Skag bent forward as Tyler whipped his blade out of the wound.
Tyler saw a shield wall coming at him. Somewhere in the midst of that wall was the Jahon, standing almost head and shoulders above soldiers that were nearly a foot taller than the average human.
Norlunders surged down the path Tyler had cut for them and threw themselves at the shield bearing Skags…only to be viciously stymied. One Norlunder was speared through the heart. Another human dropped lifelessly to his knees after a Skag clipped a divot from his skull with a meat cleaver-like implement.
The Jahon burst through the protection of his soldiers as if no longer willing to be denied his share of the killing. He heaved his mighty axe and its thirsty blade drank its full share of human blood wherever it was directed.
Tyler took in the sight of this monstrous figure for a brief, measuring instant. Then he slipped a knife from its niche and hurled it at the Jahon. A bodyguard lunged before the Skag leader. The blade bounced off the edge of the guard’s shield.
The Jahon’s attention riveted on Tyler and locked. Keen, discerning eyes gleamed from a visage that looked like a formless blot of clay. The Jahon had to have been the biggest Skag Tyler had ever seen up to this point. His skin was pale as chalk, massive arms packed with the muscle required to heft an axe that may have weighed more than a man. The Jahon’s mouth, permanently snarled as it was, expanded into a feral grin. He raised his axe and charged.
Tyler had a half dozen countering moves mapped out by the time the Jahon lumbered within killing range. Danger coming at him from his right periphery prevented Tyler from executing one of those moves. He jerked to one side, eluding a spear jab from one of the Jahon’s bodyguards. Tyler swung upward, his sword striking the spear shaft. He barely had time to jump backwards as the Jahon’s axe blurred past him, slicing through Tyler’s chain-linked torso vest with enough penetration to score the flesh beneath. The glancing impact sent Tyler reeling off balance.
Olag appeared at Tyler’s side, his eyes ablaze with berserker fury. He cut down the spear-holding Skag and went after the Jahon who was fending off attacks from a trio of Norlunders. The Jahon swept his axe in a wide radius and a Norlunder’s head went sailing above the fray in the weapon’s wake.
Olag tried to close in on the Skag leader but ran face first into the Jahon’s forearm. Olag dropped, stunned by the battering ram blow. The Jahon zeroed in on Olag with his axe lifted, preparing to deliver death.
“No!” Tyler screamed, pulling out a knife and pitching it toward the Jahon.
The Skag leader let out a pained grunt, his swing interrupted by a knife buried in the back of his wrist. The Jahon plucked the blade out and turned to this dark skinned outlander determined to finish him once and for all.
Tyler sprinted toward the Jahon with the same thought in mind for his opponent, but again he was sidetracked. A Skag bodyguard rushed him with a mallet. Tyler dove low beneath the swing, delivering a cut to the bodyguard’s ankle deep enough to sever the achilles tendon. The guard tottered sideways.
Tyler was barely upright when he was batted off his feet by the thrust of a convex shield. The outlander fell and fell and kept falling in a graceless tumble down the side of the hill. Tyler clutched at the dusty surface in a desperate effort to slow his descent. At that breakneck moment he realized that he had lost his sword. Even worse the Jahon was bounding down the hill in sure-footed pursuit. The Skag’s light, balanced strides over so steep a terrain belied his immense girth.
The Jahon came at Tyler with the ferocity of a revved up bull. Tyler doubted he would have been able to avoid the bite of that crimson-washed axe blade. Part of his mind lamented his failure to kill the Jahon. Another part applauded the attempt and dipped into resignation at the fate that came flying toward him bearing a predator’s leer.
Then a blinding squiggle of light gouged the ground between Tyler and the Jahon. A
tingly sensation, like a touch of static brushed across the exposed parts of Tyler’s skin.
The Jahon, jarred off his feet by the blast of light, flopped to the ground, his momentum flinging his bulk scathingly down the slope.
Tyler and the Jahon ended their descent at the base of the hill.
Despite his grogginess, the human moved as swiftly as his banged up body would allow toward the Jahon. Tyler spotted his sword and scooped it up.
The Jahon lay sprawled on his belly. He twisted around onto his back, a pained grimace woven into his face. The Skag leader’s sunken eyes flared wide at the sight of a sword-clutching human looming over him.
Tyler swiftly straddled the Jahon, plunging his sword into the Skag’s chest like a stake driven through a vampire. Extricating the blade, Tyler stepped back cautiously, observing his dying foe.
The Jahon tried to rise. One hand clutched his profusely bleeding wound as a fading glow of hatred shined a dimming light on his vanquisher.
“You…are…not like the others of your kind,” the Jahon rasped harshly. “Who are you?”
“I’m somebody who’s a long way from home,” Tyler replied wistfully.
The Jahon’s face softened in seeming consideration, before lapsing into an empty eyed stare of death.
Exuberance and weariness marked the Norlunders’ victory celebration. It was indeed a victory, however indecisive it may have been. Tyler had banked on the Skags retreating after the death of their leader. The Skags’ unity had been a tenuous affair held in place by the iron manacle of the Jahon’s will. Now that the Jahon was no more, the Skags would revert back to their divisions. This did not mean that the Norlunders were off their radar screen. The Skags were still going to raid human lands. What Tyler had given the Norlunders was a respite from the threat of extinction. Nothing more.
Tyler paid a last visit to the Goddess. A crowd was assembled around the temple engaging in song, dance and praise. When the Norlunders saw Tyler, he became the focal point of the their delight.
Olag appeared before the outlander, gripping his shoulders before enfolding him in a fierce bear hug. A huge dark bruise from his encounter with the Jahon marked one side of Olag’s face. The big warrior undoubtedly bore that mark with pride. “I hear you are leaving us,” Olag commented with solemn concern.
Tyler’s face registered regret. “I can’t stay, Olag.”
“That saddens me,” a woman’s voice floated from behind.
Tyler turned around to find himself facing the Goddess. “You’re very good at sneaking up on me,” he remarked, almost playfully.
A smile parted the Goddess’ lips.
Tyler regarded the woman with renewed curiosity. He tried to cling to his skepticism in regard to the Goddess’ claim to…well…godhood. But certain things impinged on his rational mind. That stroke of lightning that distracted the Jahon when he was about to strike Tyler down. A random weather event? Or her doing?
Tyler discovering his sword within convenient reach when he thought it was lost. Coincidence? Or her doing?
The outlander shook off those questions. His rational mind reasserted itself.
“Please stay with us, Tyler,” was what the Goddess spoke aloud.
Please stay with me echoed from the silence of her heart.
Tyler picked up on what was unsaid, and was surely tempted to accept her invitation. He almost did. “I can’t. I need to find a way back to my world. Staying here won’t lead me home unless you can utilize your powers of divine intervention.”
“It was not my intervention that brought you here,” said the Goddess.
Tyler raised a hand. “I know. It was the Fates. I tell you what, I’ll offer a prayer to you for success in my quest.”
The Goddess acknowledged with the deepest sincerity. “I will do all I can to make sure your prayer is realized.”
With that Tyler bade farewell to the Goddess, Olag, and the rest of the village. He departed afterward on a journey he hoped would lead back to the world he knew.
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