Session #7
session #7
Adair returned in time for supper at the Valinson home; discussion erupted.
Jonas was first to broach the subject, “Are we leaving tomorrow?”
Wrenchard looked down the table at the young militiaman. “I recommend that we do before winter comes too thick upon us.”
“Are we prepared?” Jonas queried.
“Leaving? Where?” Kelize piped in. She was ignored.
“We are going to need some supplies from Tyrus,” Wrenchard looked to Adair.
Jonas followed Wrenchard’s direction, “Yes, where has he been?”
Adair answered succinctly, “He’s been holed up in his shack.”
“Is he okay?” Jonas asked.
“He seems okay, now.”
Wrenchard was unconvinced. “I don’t like that, one fight and he’s lost his nerve?” He spoke to the table as much as any one person.
Adair replied, “I don’t know. I can find out.”
The smell of a hearty meal was carried in from the kitchen as Gravis entered bearing a tray laden with glasses. “I have…wine medley for everyone.”
The manservant proceeded to disburse them around the table. Both Constance and Jebediah swirled their glasses before dipping their noses below the rims. Gravis eyed Jonas fuzzily as he passed a glass to him. Kelize accepted hers quietly.
“Hey Adair,” Jonas whispered, one eye on Gravis. “Do you want to trade drinks?”
“No,” Adair replied without looking. The smells were beginning to make his stomach rumble.
Jonas pestered, “C’mon! Let’s trade drinks.”
“No!” Adair scolded.
Constance added, “It’s….wine medley.” She was hard-pressed to remain resolute.
Jebediah drank slowly, savoring the moment. “What a happy accident!” He looked to Wrenchard encouragingly. “It’s a wonderful meritage.”
Wrenchard’s face was sour grapes. “It’s very…grape.”
Gravis excused himself, “I’ll bring supper now, sir.” And he dipped his head slightly as he backed out of the room.
Jonas called after him, “And don’t skimp on the gravy!”
Jebediah looked to Jonas, “You’re not drinking your wine.”
“Er, uh, no. I don’t drink. I want to keep my head clear, y’know,” Jonas explained, tapping his temple.
Constance muttered to herself, cradling the stemware, “Did you ever stop to wonder where all these glasses come from?” She continued to muse the mystery silently.
Gravis brought a late meal of beef stew, oat bread, goat butter and roasted root vegetables. The perfume of wintergrass filled Jonas’ nostrils as the platter of vegetables was laid in front of him. His mouth watered.
“Shzhat Noelle iszh szhome cook,” he exclaimed, a mouthful of vegetables already on his tongue. He breathed out, to let the heat escape so as not to burn his tongue.
The table lightened as all gave a chuckle. They discussed Canton Myle. Jebediah made it abundantly clear that there was no way that they would be traveling together. This understood, they instead decided to focus their efforts on a plan to delay any pursuit by the man. They considered many options, the most sound of which seemed to be un-shoeing his horse. Ultimately the task was given to Jonas to complete as he had been most forthcoming with ideas on the matter.
As they finished their meals, Jonas was again curious. He looked to reiterate. “Where are we going?”
“Yeah?” Kelize tried again, searching for answers; her frown creased in anger.
Constance was quick to answer, “Black River Bridge.”
Jonas looked at her, “Why?”
Constance replied with the air of someone explaining to a child, “Because that is where my brother and I are from.”
“No, you’re not.” Jonas eyed her warily. Jebediah sighed from further along the table. Constance clammed up.
Wrenchard looked down the table to Jonas, “We’re past that.”
The plates were cleared and more wine medley was enjoyed. The map was spread on the table.
“I just want it to be known that I will not be going into these hills.” Jebediah pointed his finger to a larger spot on the map. Everyone knew it to be Black Top, capital city of Rhondria.
Wrenchard looked him in the eye, “Why?”
“Because I am known there.” Jebediah was curt, shooting Wrenchard a glare in an effort to stymie this line of questioning.
Jonas, with pointed interest, jumped on the line of questioning. “I thought you were from Menovia.”
Constance poured herself another glass of the Valinson meritage and offered some to Adair.
Jebediah was insulted at the sarcastic tone. “Who said I wasn’t? There are bounty hunters there.”
Jonas was doubtful, “Oh.” He let it drop.
Adair and Jonas cast each other furtive glances. Obviously, they’d both been harboring the same suspicious thoughts, which they now confirmed with each other.
Supper was cleared. Everyone agreed to meet at the boats at moonrise. Suddenly, the Kendrits were all short on time. Kelize stormed away from the table, marching loudly upstairs. Against his better judgment, Adair went out to see Tyrus. He loathed the idea of skulking the hills after sundown. Jonas was to execute his plan. Jebediah and Constance followed upstairs to pack and get some much-needed rest for the trials to come. Jebediah left instructions for Gravis to awake him an hour before departure. Wrenchard helped to clear the last of the dishes to the kitchen and proceeded down into the cellar.
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“How are you, father?” Wrenchard lowered himself to one knee, head bowed before the withered man rocking in the chair.
“Oooohhhh….” He moaned, showing no signs of recognition.
“Father,” Wrenchard placed a hand on the quilt covering the man’s lap, “it’s me Wrenchard.”
Feldon jerked reflexively, “Ooohhhhh….,” he muttered. He looked into his son’s eyes, recognizing him for the first time now. “My ass is bleeding.”
Wrenchard ignored the declaration. “I’ll be leaving soon, father.”
“Oooohhhhh, why did Ra have to take Hornrick?” Feldon lamented. “Why couldn’t he have taken you instead?” Feldon condemned his only remaining son. There was no sympathy.
Wrenchard was used to such barbs; he continued to try and explain. It was useless. The sight of his only remaining son had set Fldon into another fit of depression. Wrenchard could only watch in sympathy and misery. He cared deeply for this shell of a man, longed for his respect and appreciation, yet he knew he would never measure up to the shadow of what might have once been – Hornrick. He stood, kissed his old man on the forehead and left.
He called down as he climbed the creaky old staircase, “You’ll see, father. I’ll make you proud. Proud for all of us.”
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Jonas left to take care of Canton's horse. He knew that it had to be stabled in Van Feicht's barn as it was not in his. First, however, Jonas knew he would need the appropriate tool to slay the animal. Not wanting to use one of his own weapons, he proceeded to the miller's barn to fetch their scythe. Before he got there, though, he ran into Trance, cowering in a bush. He questioned her. She tried to shoo him away. Finally she relayed that Cricket was inside with Lee Hoeberg.
Jonas sent Trance home and decided to barge into the barn himself.
With his air of militia authority he burst open the barn doors. “Alright! What’s goin’ on in here?!?”
He found no one. After a little searching around, he gave up, grabbed the scythe and went back to his original task.
In his best friend’s barn, he tied the horse up by pulling its reins taught and securing them to a post directly across from the stall. This pulled the horses neck out from the stall, not allowing it to retract inside. Seeming to sense what was about to happen the steed began to frantically try to break free. It kicked at the stalls edges and kneed the door as if it had clear knowledge of its impending doom.
Jonas cleaved it in the neck with the scythe, though he wasn't strong enough to do it cleanly. The horse struggled mightily and it would be a few more whacks of the blade before the struggles turned to reflexive convulsions of muscles. In the end, Jonas had completed his task, but was covered in blood. He washed himself off at a well across town, as well as washing the scythe, and then went back to the miller's to replace it in the barn.
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Meanwhile, Adair returned to the woodman's hut in the wilderness to see him. He collected the gear that Wrenchard had requested of the loot that had been gleaned from the slain Menovians. He then sat down to ask the most relevant question of the woodsman.
“Are you coming with us?”
Tyrus, ever thoughtful, asked what was to be done with the tracker. Upon hearing of the plan of delaying Canton by doing something to his horse, the young moonshiner suggested that he stay behind to keep a watch on the bounty-hunter. Tyrus would delay Canton or race ahead to meet the party further upstream, for he could travel faster alone and was familiar with the hills in the region. Bidding farewell to the woodsman, Adair returned to Wrenchard's manor with the gear, noticing both coming and going that a little fire had been lit in the Stillwell home.
On his way home, he stopped by the Tatum house and rapped on the shutters of Hazel's room.
Her sweet voice instantly resounded from within, “Jonas? Jonas?”
Adair was hurt. “It’s Adair.”
“Oops!” She winced as she opened the shutters.
Adair explained to her that he would be leaving on the expedition and assured her that he would be back for the Festival of Isis. A look of concern crossed her face. They shared a tender moment, Hazel quickly furnishing her suitor with a lock of her braided hair, which he took to cherish on his journey. She allowed him a kiss on the cheek and gave him a firm hug before he departed for home to pack, make good-byes, and rest.
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Upstairs, Wrenchard collected his things. Kelize looked on, dumbfounded. She ticked her teeth, annoying Wrenchard.
Finally, he could ignore her no longer. “Kelize, I’m leaving on that expedition tomorrow.”
“What expedition?” She queried.
He was sure that she was feigning ignorance. Overlooking her attempt to bait him into argument, Wrenchard only asked that she respect his father and treat him well.
“Uh-huh.” Kelize was upset. She stood sideways next to the bureau, casting him a nasty look.
“I can find another wife.” Wrenchard thought of other women, like Constance.
“Uh-huh. Good luck.” She practically snarled.
Wrenchard stopped packing and gave her his undivided attention now. “It’s a larger world than you know.”
“Oh, I know,” She insinuated.
“Well,” Wrenchard was livid. “I’m leaving.”
“You won’t be missed.” Kelize crossed the room to point a finger into his face. Her long nightgown trailed behind her, swishing like the tail of a cat.
“Well, neither will you.” Wrenchard wanted to inflict more pain than she could. He looked down into his wife’s heaving bosom. He felt the warmth rising between them.
“My bed is cold with or without you,” Kelize jabbed.
They continued to bicker, viciously. She insulted Wrenchard’s nobility, or lack thereof, and condemned his irresponsibility at going out to play ‘war hero’. It was clear that the man’s home life was nothing like the perception of him in the town outside his doors. Kelize baited him expertly, pushing the limits of his patience. Wrenchard, unable to control himself any longer, slapped his wife. Blood welled from her lip.
“I hate you!” She spat. “You ruined my life!” Kelize’s eyes burned holes in Wrenchard’s skull.
“I hate you too!” Wrenchard admitted loudly.
He fell onto his wife. She capitulated. The floor was soaked in sweat. The sounds of the throes of passion emanated throughout the house.
Later, having had his fill of her, Wrenchard arose. Kelize lay disheveled and cast a spurious glance upward at her husband.
The bitterness still there. “You’re a bastard!”
Wrenchard bowed, “And you’re a bitch.” He collected his things and closed the door behind him, not bothering to look down at his wife as he left.
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Jonas packed his things and moseyed back into town. He stopped by the canoes and stored the equipment there beneath them. A new idea on his mind, he proceeded to the Tatum house. He rapped on the shutters of Hazels’ room.
Her sweet voice instantly resounded from within, “Adair? Adair?”
Jonas was hurt. “It’s Jonas.”
“Oops!” She winced as she opened the shutters.
They had a brief chat, which didn’t go quite as well as Jonas had hoped. When he tried to clamber through the window, she stopped him by giving him a hug. As he leaned in close they brushed cheeks and the young man sang her a song. She smelled to him of everything he wanted a woman to smell like, particularly at that moment like bacon.
This seemed to have some effect, as she pushed him back outside. Hazel returned moments later, rewarding Jonas with a lock of her braided hair with which to cherish her while on his journey.
He accepted it graciously and waited until she closed the shutters. It was drawing near time. Jonas figured that he’d wait at the boats.
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The time had come for Gravis to awaken Jebediah, which he dutifully did, having developed some affection for him. The younger man set about his preparations to leave, including the cooking of a warm breakfast, likely the last warm meal for some time. Constance joined him in the kitchen minutes later. She was chipper.
“That Gravis is so efficient.” She seemed to be lost in memory. “I shall miss him.”
She accepted a plate and joined her brother at the dining room table. They ate in silence.
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Wrenchard expertly slipped silently down the hall and creaked open the door to his children’s room. They were both asleep. Knowing it would be useless to disturb Dian, he gently pulled the hair that had collected in the corner of her mouth and tucked it away behind her ear. Her brushed her forehead and cheeks with the back of his hand and kissed the top of her head, whispering a prayer to Isis.
He crossed the room and knelt beside Annabelle’s bed. Gently he nudged her awake.
“Annabelle? Annabelle?” He coaxed her softly.
She awoke. She shook the sleep from her eyes. “Yes, Daddy?” She was innocently curious.
He patiently explained to her that he would be going to find them a new place to live. And that Kelize would be taking care of the house while he was gone. He asked her to mind her mother and be good. She of course agreed. Wrenchard hugged his first-born and he kissed as he stood.
Admiringly, she looked up at her idol as he turned to leave the room, one last question ion her sleep-addled mind. “Poppa?”
Wrenchard turned in the doorway.
“Does this mean that strange men are gonna have to come over to take care of business?” She asked.
Wrenchard paused.
Annabelle rolled over, asleep before receiving a response.
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Shortly before moonrise, Adair awoke and said good-bye to his family, gently rousing them from sleep to do so. His mother was tearful of his departure, of course, but his dad encouraged him to learn from Wrenchard and make something of himself. It was a rare opportunity for a young man to be apprenticed for free to such a noble skill. Adair could tell that his father was proud. Emboldened, the youth stepped out of his house, looked back, and took that first step on his new adventure.
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Done with Hazel, Jonas started to go to the boats when he suddenly remembered his dad and ran back to say farewell to him. Jonas was encouraged knowing that his father at least had Albert the mule to help him in his work while he was gone. Isaiah was getting old after all. Afterwards, he went straight to the canoes to await the others.
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‘Black’ Adair and Wrenchard met Jebediah and Constance at the table. The four ate and then hitched up their gear to head down to the waters edge. Jebediah and Constance went ahead with their gear while Adair and Wrenchard maneuvered the Valinson wheelbarrow with all of the supplies. Jebediah and Jonas loaded the boats, distributing the food. Initially it was decided that the Groomers and Wrenchard would row one boat while Jonas and Adair the other.
While they were packing the boats in the water, a skeletal figure emerged from the dark, shuffling down the embankment towards them. Jebediah noticed it first and called out, while drawing his sword.
“Jonas, look out!”
Chaos amidst the darkness ensued. Jonas, reflexes tuned from nights on the Breach, was quick to pull forth a hammer and lay into the encroaching doom. Yet, in the moonlight he misjudged the swing and missed the thing. Constance screamed and began to frantically string her bow. Her brother stepped nobly in front of her, and unsheathed his large sword in a slashing arc, narrowly missing his attempt to cleave the offender.
Jebediah yelled at her, “Constance! Get back!”
Adair circled around behind the skeleton, drawing his dad’s old short sword the while, and took a stab at it. The blade slid between yellowed old rib bones, piercing where a living mans lung would have been. The incarnate death was seemed unaffected.
Wrenchard wheeled about, producing a dart from beneath the folds of his long cloak. He held it aloft, taking aim. Jonas noticed the map-maker readying to throw the dart, obviously toward his head. He dared duck a bit in anticipation of the attack, though was still wary of his skeletal assailant. The throw was well-placed. It found its target past the young militiaman’s cheek and rebounded off of the hip of a second skeleton which now was scrambling from the waters edge, clawing its way up the river’s bank. Wrenchard was surprised to see the dart was not as effective versus these undying remnants as it was the Menovians.
Jonas sprang up from his haunches and laid the hammer down as gravity brought his weight to rest. Shards of decayed bone were embedded in the frozen earth; the skeleton did not reel. It retaliated with a flesh rending slash of its claw-like hands, Jonas gritted his teeth in pain. Wrenchard spotted two more of the monsters clawing their way from the water’s edge now, ascending the embankment where the second did.
Jebediah spun about trying to stop gap the area of encroachment, taking advantage of his vantage and swinging his blade low to slash at the closest skeleton. The blow, which would have severed a man’s shoulder muscles, barely slowed it.
Adair continued his ineffectual attacks. Having drawn the attention of the second skeleton, Wrenchard felt its vengeance as it reached out, clawing him. The map-maker, avoided further blows and leapt down the embankment into the boats in search of a more suitable weapon.
Jonas continued his assault on the initial skeleton and felled it with a mighty clamor. Unnoticed, a fifth skeleton reached up from the waters darkened depths and tore at Jonas’ calf. He yelped in pain and surprise.
Jebediah, unable to stop the advancing skeletons, now stood to face them both as they clawed at him. One drew blood. Constance stood back still fighting her fear. She fired an arrow at the skeleton closing on Wrenchard, missing. Jebediah returned the courtesy, again slashing at the time-hardened bone of his assailant. Again the might of his blow was displaced by the lack of flesh.
Frustrated, Adair dropped his sword, and ran to the wheelbarrow. He lifted the end and pointed its prow in the direction of the skeleton between Wrenchard and Constance. Unaware of his intention the skeleton instead turned to help bring down Jebediah.
Now surrounded by three skeletons, Jebediah slashed in broad arcs. Constance screamed. In the boats below Wrenchard found two light hammers. He threw them both into the fracas around the large pilgrim. The first projectile missed, the second found its mark in the whittled bone assailant, felling it.
Constance fired into the fray, scoring a hit. The arrow lodged in the spine of the skeleton, feathers protruding through the cavity, emerging from between the ribcage. Still the skeletons closed on the largest of the group. Jebediah fended them off, losing the grip on his sword as they grabbed at it. It fell to the earth and he pulled a flail from his belt. The sounds of clinking chain echoed into the night as he began to swing it around his head.
Jonas looked down at the forearm extended from the river. Unable to shake its grasp, he shifted his weight and struck hard with his hammer. The blow sank just below the surface, smacking hard into what he reckoned the things head must be. He felt the snap as he connected. Yet still the skeleton continued its attack.
Adair mustered all of his strength and put all of his weight forward, he ran headlong into the closest skeleton with the wheelbarrow. The battering ram however, was not enough to fell the deceptively strong creature of undeath. Its lack of muscle belied its supernatural strength. Adair had only succeeded in drawing its attention. It clambered atop the vehicle and foodstuffs and clawed at the shepherd boy. It drew blood from Adair’s chest as it sank its bony hands into the folds of his cloak. The young man howled in pain.
Jonas’ attention was drawn by the scream. He looked over to his peer. “Adair, you need to use a real weapon!” he called in support. But he could tell that from the look of things, Adair wasn’t faring well. With another well-placed crack he shattered the offending arm of the submerged assailant, and hurried up the embankment to help Adair and Constance. She had since drawn her rapier.
Jebediah continued to flail about with the remaining skeleton, which engaged him. Wrenchard, out of missile weapons, grabbed an oar and began to clamber back up the riverbank.
In terror, Adair succumbed to reflex. He pitched aside what was in his hands, the handles. The wheelbarrow toppled to one side, the skeleton was sent tumbling in the direction of Jonas, who was happy to oblige with a faulty swing of his hammer. The skeleton returnws a clumsily placed slash at the militiaman.
Jebediah traded blows with the monster. Each inflicted damage upon the other. Ever alert of his sister’s situation, he yelled to Constance. “You need something blunt!”
Obeying, she ran after one of the discarded light hammers. Grabbing it up, she ran to help her brother.
Jonas swung again and again. In his eagerness, he overextended himself and slipped on a sausage that had fallen out of the cart. He fell to his back. Desperately he regained his feet, before the skeleton could capitalize. Adair grabbed a real weapon, the closest sack of food. He swung it wildly. Jonas continued the assault. He placed the hammer into the chest of the skeleton, knocking it from its feet. Ribs flew out in all directions. Using the momentum to his advantage, Adair brought the bag of root vegetables from over his head and smashed it down upon the monster. With the sound of cracking whips, it ceased to move.
As if in response to potential threat to his sister, Jebediah redoubled his efforts. With one well-placed blow he shattered the remaining skeleton. It crumbled to the ground in a heap.
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Not wishing to push their luck, the group bound their wounds, loaded up the rest of the gear into the boats and pushed off, rowing upstream.
“I thought we’d never leave.” Constance whispered in Jebediah’s ear as they settled into the first boat.
As they were leaving the last vestiges of civilization around the little hamlet, though, some of them heard in the distance, carried on the wind, the Hymn of Amon-Rah. (1)
As they rowed through the night a soft snow fell silently towards the earth. The fat flakes melted before they hit the surface of the water.
“So Adair,” Jonas was chatty tying to pass the time. “What are you gonna miss most bout Kendrick?”
“Having a good place to sleep every night.” Adair was already beginning to reflect on the absence of his bed. He was tired and hurt.
“Heh. I thought it’d be Hazel.” Jonas prodded in time with his rowing. He waited through a long silence for a response. There was none.
Without further amusement he poked sarcastically, “Well, that was a great conversation.”
Ralem, 2nd of Oche – 564 H.E.
With morning, the soft snowfall ceased. The river narrowed and the embankments on either side grew to heights of thirty or forty feet. The river began to take on the feel of a channel cut through the earth, rent by water. Brush and trees clung for life to the rocky sides of the passageway, defying gravity.
Silent for the rest of the morning, they rowed for until about an hour after sunrise, before stopping to rest by tying their boats up to the root of a tree that stuck out into the river from a steep embankment. Jonas attempted to climb the tree, but found the full nights rowing fatigued his muscles. Exacerbated by the awkward angle of the foliage, he let Jebediah make the attempt. Instead he produced a harmonica from his satchel, and began to play.
“Of course your lips still work,” Constance muttered to herself.
Jebediah ascended the barren conifer, hoping to gain some further view of the river, but was unable to see much from within the river’s rut. He climbed down to rest in the boat.
Opting not to attempt resting in the already cramped boats, they instead all ate a meager lunch, and discussed tentative plans.
“Well boys, I guess this is the farthest you’ve ever been from home.” Wrenchard seemed to be enjoying his newfound freedom.
Adair nodded in agreement, choking out a, “Yep,” while munching on his mutton sandwiches.
“I been to Black Top with my dad when I was a kid,” Jonas replied, spewing bit of mutton. Constance did not hide her revulsion.
Wrenchard stretched his arms and inhaled deeply, and ignored Jonas’ answer, “Aren’t you excited?”
“More like tired,” Jonas and Adair said in unison.
They also spoke about Tyrus’ plans to follow on foot and catch up with them later, what lay in Black Top and what a treat it would be to visit, though Jebediah and Constance would not accompany the group into the city.
After their brief respite they again set about rowing upstream. The sides of the river grew more mountainous and the current was slightly swifter. The rivers path became windier, rocks also began to appear cresting the waters surface. They had to work to avoid the danger. Eventually the two boat train turned a drastic dogleg and found an eddy on the left bank, that had enough room for them to make camp. After some debate, the group decided to stop, and use the rest of the day to make a comfortable camp for the approaching night. Wrenchard referenced his map and estimated them to have rowed roughly thirty miles since having left Kendrick.
The eddy was ringed by large natural stones, which jutted forth from the earth and the river. A steep gravel slope formed a beachhead nestled between a v-shaped crevasse where two folds of the cliff faces met. In that wedge Jonas found the climbing somewhat easier as he scaled the fifty-foot wedge to take a look around. From his elevated position on the top he could see that the river cut right through the decline of a large hill. It continued on in a similar fashion for quite a distance.
He descended to report while the others pulled the boats up onto the gravelly shore. Jonas and Wrenchard each climbed back up to collect firewood, anticipating a cold night.
They collected what wood they could for a few hours, never leaving earshot of one another. Once, while bringing back the fuel, Jonas caught the sight of Constance down below. She had waded into the frigid waters, her bare back turned toward them, apparently washing herself. It was apparent that the Groomers had taken pains to make sure Adair was not watching while she bathed. Wrenchard approached, Jonas dumped the wood and went back to work.
As dusk approached, Jonas and Wrenchard climbed down, and rested a bit. They all ate in relative silence; exhaustion began to creep over them. Afterward the duo ascended again to gather what remaining wood they could in the dying light. As they searched, Wrenchard spotted something on the high embankment of the far shore. It appeared to him as a predatory cat, or something skulking low to the ground, crawling on all fours. He was unable to discern any real features at that distance and the lurker was gone before he could get close enough to tell.
As darkness fell, a fire was made into a pit in dug the rocky earth bed. Jebediah and Constance were to stay the first watch while the others recuperated some much-needed rest.
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Time passed slowly, Constance’s eyelids grew heavy. At one interval during the duty, Jebediah did hear the splash of water out in the distance from the river; a sound akin to that of a heavy rock to break the river’s surface. He waited, watched, pondered, but saw nothing.
When Constance could not deny sleep any longer, Adair was awakened to watch the shadowed cliff tops high above, while Jebediah continued to study the dark, rippling waters. Some time later, Adair did indeed believe that he had seen some movement at the top of the wall, but he was uncertain as to whether it was real or perceived. The two speculated. Jebediah finished reciting his long oratory (2) and slept, cuddling up for warmth with his sister. Wrenchard took up watch over the water.
Adair’s eyelids sagged. Wrenchard’s shoulders drooped. A big splash was heard in the river nearby, jerking both men back to alertness. Suddenly, what sounded to be a rock dropped into one of the boats. The echoing thud of wood, jerked Jebediah awake, which in turn jolted Constance awake as well. Adair had to kick Jonas awake.
By the time the second rock fell, the group was alert and beginning to don armor hastily. Jonas and Wrenchard decided to forego the protection and began to scale the cliff face instead. They knew that they had to deal with whatever was trying to sabotage their boats, and quick. As Jonas neared the top, he saw a shadowed humanoid head peek just over the top of the ledge. It seemed shocked to see the progress made by the men below and quickly withdrew into the dark above. No sooner had the young militiaman swung a leg over the cliff’s top, when he was bitten by the same strange being. Flesh tore from his hamstring, and a strange sensation seeped through the muscles there. Jonas was reminded of the feeling one has when a limb loses circulation, ‘going to sleep.’ He shook it off and stood.
“I need some help up here,” he called out behind him, angling his voice below. “There is some sort of weird creature trying to eat me!” He looked about for the humanoid form in the dark.
Wrenchard continued to climb below him. Jonas stepped back and readied his war hammer for the assault he knew would come.
It did. He missed. A foul-smelling, shell of a man, flesh pulled tight like worn leather over a decaying frame, seeped vermiculate from the edge of the darkness. Wild, wet black hair fell in small clumps from its head as it writhed forward. Its two clawed limbs lashed out with rapid speed, seeking to both rend flesh from his body and pull Jonas forward to its open maw, salivating with his own blood. Again, flesh was ripped from Jonas’ shoulder, again, he felt the muscles there begin to deny his will, as if forgetting their purpose. He shrugged off the effects, shimmying aside to protect Wrenchard’s ascent. Only he stood between the flesh-eater and the precipice of the cliff now.
Adair waited, bow pointed at the top of the cliff face above, ready to fire at any assailants. Jebediah watched the darkened waters as Constance helped him strap the buckles on his breastplate. Then Adair noted movement from the waters edge, from the corner of his eye. He quietly alerted Jebediah who ceased his actions.
“Get everything in the boat.” He whispered to the young shepherd and his sister. “We’ve go to get out of here.”
Armor still dangling loosely, Jebediah pulled his bow to watch the waters as Adair and Constance did as instructed.
Above, Jonas now engaged the monster whose hunger had overcome its desire to remain in the darkest of night. The smell of death heralded its approach as it lashed at the young Fawkes. Jonas, savvy of its speed, dodged its blows and returned in kind. The walloping thud echoed within the flesh-eaters frame and elicited a very distinct, “you bastid!” Just as suddenly it turned to retreat into the shadows of night, allowing Jonas every opportunity to again connect with another meaty blow, which did not seem to slow it down too much as it slinked off into the dark.
“What in hell was that thing?” Jonas wondered as he massaged his shoulder.
“Jonas, come down here,” Jebediah called from below. “The boats are almost ready.”
Turning about to Wrenchard who had just cleared the lip of the cliff, Jonas exclaimed, “It’s alright! Everything’s fine here!”
Down below, though, it wasn’t quite so well. Jebediah had begun to remove his armor, in preparation to get in the boat. Then he spotted a second creature skulking round the boat not yet in the water. It lurked low by the bow, slithering across the gravel beachhead, crawling forward on all four of its limbs. Its naked flesh reflected the color of the stones and the water. Its tongue licked left and right, tasting the air. Jebediah called out to the others.
Adair quickly picked up his bow and stepped out to fire an arrow at the flesh-eater, but its movements proved to be too erratic, making the shot difficult; he missed. Constance drew her rapier and lunged forward to take a stab at it, but she slipped awkwardly on the sloped rocks and had her blade knocked away by the creature, which now stood to its full height. It locked its eyes on hers and hissed through it’s the smile of its rotten, yellow, teeth.
“Yesss,” it crept forward, swaying almost rhythmically. “Give ussss the girl and we’ll let you live.” It offered. Then, with acuity, it buried one clawed fist into her bosom and pulled her forward into a deep piercing bite at the bicep. As Constance, felt effects similar to those experienced by Jonas, only sheer will helped her to wriggle free. She retreated, proclaiming a sensation of cold.
Reacting to the sight, Jebediah stepped forward and drew his mighty sword in one motion. No sooner had the wide arc begun from its sheathe, did it connect lacerating a wide swath across the flesh-eaters abdomen. The force of the blow knocked it backward, half into the water and on its back.
Feverishly, it began to rip at the open wound, grabbing up at the swarm of maggots that crawled from the gaping hole there, and gobbled them. Its rump shuffled its way backward into the depths of the dark waters and disappeared.
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Notes:
(1) – For some reason this Hymn sounds remarkably similar to ‘My Bonnie Lies Over the Sea’. It is an old Aquerra tune of lament, often sung, whistled, or hummed by those in melancholy. The original tune was thought to have been written by admirers for an old tribal king, as a funeral dirge after his passing. Amon-Rah was purportedly the last of the Mibor tribe.
(2) – Jebediah is well-versed in long epic poetry and oratory. Something of a story-teller himself, he knows the rough length of such orations. He used this knowledge to mark the passage of time by reciting such a tale to himself, in a low tone. At its end, he knew that approximately two hours had passed.
