Last Month...

Entangled in the weight of his dead comrade, the hunter, now become prey, died quickly, head nearly severed from behind and to the side as He had stepped swiftly around and delivered the fatal sweep of steel. Far too late He heard the footfall behind him, and cursed his own confidence as his head burst in a explosion of light and pain...

The biting pain in his wrists and ankles was an annoyance, to be certain, but the first thought in his mind was that waking up to a mouthful of dirt twice in a single day was not a good sign. He turned his head sideways, and winced at the throbbing ache at the base of his skull. As he moved, he could feel the dried blood flaking as the fresh scab broke and a slow warm trickle began again, crusting his long hair.

Voices were nearby, foreign, harsh and guttural to his ears, but not completely alien somehow. The words may have been unrecognizable, but the sounds were similar in certain regards to his own tongue. This, and his brief battle, reassured him that these were not Gods, but men. He tested his bindings and found them secure, which was not quite so reassuring. He wondered why he had been allowed to live at all, and thought it foolish of his captors. At the first chance, he would slay them all with impunity in a bid for his freedom. And his chance would come; even laying bound in the dirt, he had no question in his heart of that fact.

For the first time, he had a chance to look around. Off to his right, the great bird perched, legs hobbled with a chain which also ran twice around one of its wings, making flight impossible. The bird’s angry black eyes were everywhere, and he moved restlessly, the huge curved beak opening and closing with audible clicks. It was a beautiful animal, he thought, with rust colored feathers forming a crest about his black head and neck. But nothing in his life had terrified him more than the sight of this beast. He shuddered recalling his look into the cold depths of its eyes. Three men stood a safe distance away from the bird, apparently arguing. Along with the one who had struck him, there was another in red shirt and sword slung across his back; and most vocal of the trio was a tall gangly man with a shaved head. He wore white robes which fluttered as he gesticulated wildly, his voice high and nasal. Even without knowing the tongue, he was able to recognize condensension when he heard it, and almost felt an empathy for the two soldiers in red. Presently, the second man donned a helmet and tentatively approached the bird, making soft, reassuring noises. The bird turned its attention to him and watched warily as he came closer, holding a short black object in his hand, wielding it like a weapon although it did not appear to be threatening in the least. Watching the scene unfold, it was suddenly apparent to the bound traveller what the situation was. One of the Warriors he had killed must have been the rider upon the birds back, and the others rode within the basket. Obviously, riding the beast was not simply a matter of leaping on its back and taking flight. He imagined the rigorous training that must be involved to be able to command such a creature.

The warrior drew nearer to the bird, picking up one of the stout lines that attached the basket to the bird’s harness. The basket itself lay just beyond the creature, and must have been set down and detached from the harness by the rider before he joined his fellows in the hunt. More than likely, it was the first man he had killed, the one who passed beneath him. A sudden blur of movement pulled him out of his thoughts, as the birds great head struck forward toward the warrior. A sharp crack and blinding flash of light burst between the two, and the animal issued a piercing cry of pain and fury, its head snapping back. Even from the distance at which he stood he recoiled from the explosion of light, backing into sharp strands with his bound hands and back, barely keeping enough balance on his lashed together feet to keep him from falling again. New cuts appeared on his arms and warm blood slowly trickled. He did not lean forward from the spines. Rather, he began to slowly shift his hands up and down, feeling the spines catch the tether on his wrists. Standing stock still, eyes impassive, he began a gentle sawing motion, heedless of the accompanying sawing into his flesh.

The warrior stepped forward and touched the bird again with the wand in his hand, producing another scream as lightening issued from its tip. Again and again the warrior struck the bird, and the smell of burnt flesh and feathers filled the air. Finally the bird pulled back into itself, its hard eyes burning with pain and hate. Quickly the other warrior came forward and took up the lines to the basket and fastened them to rings set around the harness and saddle. The man in white now stepped forward, and issued orders imperiously, pointing first to the three nearby corpses laid out on the ground, and then to the bound traveller. The warriors responded, and a moment of panic struck him until he saw them move to the bodies, lifting the first and carrying it toward the basket.

He moved his wrists faster, feeling the tether loosen, then sever completely. Taking just a moment to work circulation back into his hands, he then firmly grasped onto the stoutest of the strands he could reach. Its spines cut deep into the palms of his hands, and he bit his lip hard until the sharpness of the pain turned into a dull, throbbing ache. The grip of his bloodied hands did not weaken, and he snapped the tall reed off from its stem, holding a four foot section of it upright behind him. Presently, the last body was lifted into the basket, and the stocky warrior came toward him, sweating and out of breath. The traveller dropped his head down upon his chest, and wavered slightly as he approached. Before the warrior could reach out to grasp him by the scalp, his left arm flashed around from behind him, whipping the razor sharp reed across the warriors face, opening a long gash that ran from the temple down across the cheek, and splitting both his lips diagonally. Before the blood could spring from the opened flesh, he drew the reed back across in a return stroke, this time taking the warriors left eye and a large section of his nose. The warrior brought his hands to his face, too stunned to scream from his mangled flapping mouth, and staggered back. Dropping the reed, the traveller pitched forward onto him, knocking him to the ground and pinning him. Grabbing the warriors hair he pounded the man’s head against a jutting stone several times until he heard the dull crunch of flesh and skull collapsing, and the man lay still beneath him.

Rolling off the corpse, he looked up to see the other warrior on a dead run toward him, sword drawn. His eyes never left the onrushing warrior as his hands pawed blindly at the dead mans belt, finding the pommel of a dagger. In one fluid motion he pulled the dagger, drew it back, and snapped his wrist, still laying on his back. The momentum of the warriors legs suddenly against the force of the dagger driving into the base of his throat, caused his legs to fly out from beneath him as his upper body flew in the other direction. He landed flat on his back and lay still as a dark pool spread slowly out around him. The traveller rolled the body next to him over with a grunt, and withdrew the dead man’s sword, using it to cut the cords around his ankle. He jumped to his feet and stepped forward, promptly pitching forward onto his face, barely breaking the fall with his hands. Cursing he worked his ankles and feet in a circular motion, allowing the blood to circulate again. His eyes sought out the man in white and found him staring dumbly near the basket.

After a moment, he rose again, taking his first steps unsteadily, eyes fixed on his remaining captor now turned prey. Nearing him with sword drawn, he watched the man raise the wand used to tame the bird in front of him. Its tip glowed, vibrating slightly, betraying the trembling of the man’s hand. His mouth was set, but there was fear in his eyes. The traveller stopped for a moment, eyeing the glowing wand, then smiled and stepped forward again. Predictibly, the man in white stepped back, and continued to slowly back away.

There was no warning at all before the massive beak closed down around the man, engulfing his head and shoulders entirely. The massive bird shook the body like a rag doll, white robes streaking with red flapping back and forth until the snap of his spinal cord was heard. With a sickening crunch the bird began to feed, and the sole witness to the carnage let the blade drop from his hand and turned away in revulsion, shuddering...

(To be continued)