Tales of the Wold Newton Universe (36 page)

* * *

He awoke to find himself seated on the ground with his arms pulled behind him, secured by leather straps around the trunk of a small tree. A campfire provided the only illumination, and several tents dotted the nearby landscape. Gribardsun’s jumpsuit, tattered in the fight with Teran Lynd, had been replaced while he was unconscious by a loincloth fashioned from the hide of some manner of beast. There was a soft metallic rustling sound off to his right. Gribardsun glanced in that direction and saw the small throng of aborigines who had been taken captive earlier, still chained together as they slept on the cold dirt.

One of the captives sat upright, kneeling forward with his face buried in his arms, which lay folded across his raised knees. Gribardsun recognized the man and called out to him. “Robert?”

Von Billman raised his head and turned in the direction of the other’s voice. The corners of his mouth curved up into a slight smile. “John! Thank God you’re all right, man. I was beginning to fear that I might have lost you as well..”

“I still live,” Gribardsun replied. Then, recalling von Billman’s comment, he asked, “Where is Rachel?”

Von Billman’s smile disappeared. “In one of the tents, I think,” the linguist responded. “She and several of the other women were separated from the rest of us after our captors made camp. I overheard a bit of conversation between two of our fellow prisoners; it seems this Lynd fellow has developed quite the affinity for the local women.” He paused briefly before adding, “From what I gather, Rachel and the others are to be the latest additions to his harem.”

That last comment caused Gribardsun to see something that had escaped his notice before. While the male captives’ ages ranged from very young to very old, and everything between, the females were all either small children to prepubescent teens or middle-aged and older. Women between the ages of around fourteen or fifteen to twenty-five or thirty were nowhere to be seen, save for several who appeared sickly or in some other way unappealing to someone with certain activities on their mind.

Von Billman watched as Gribardsun glanced around the camp. “Not exactly the sort of situation a person might typically expect to find himself in, is it?”

This time it was Gribardsun’s turn to offer a slight—albeit grim—smile. “For most people, I suppose,” he replied. “You said you overheard some of the Magdalenians talking. Do they also speak English?”

“Only a few of them, and those few not very well,” von Billman answered. “Apparently these marauders have been a presence here long enough for a few of them to pick up some of the language. Although it is still a mystery to me where our captors might have learned it, given that they are obviously not native to the area.”

Gribardsun asked, “Have you been able to learn anything about our hosts?”

“Just enough to deepen the mystery, I’m afraid,” von Billman said glumly. “They appear to be extraterrestrial in origin, which would certainly explain their appearance. One of the Magdalenian children—a little girl named Anana—spoke of a ‘great boat that came down from the sky.’ Roughly a year and a half ago, if I understood her correctly. Shortly after they arrived they raided this tribe’s village and at least two others located not far away. A number of men and women from each village were captured and apparently enslaved—for what reason, no one seems to know—and there have been several more raids since then...”

Before von Billman could say more, the door flap to the largest of the tents opened and Teran Lynd stepped out, flanked by a pair of guards. In addition to the firearms seen earlier, each guard wore a large broadsword strapped across his back and carried a smaller dagger in a belt wrapped around his tunic.

Lynd wore a knife as well—Gribardsun’s hunting knife, its scabbard secured to Lynd’s waist like a trophy. Gribardsun looked from the knife up into the eyes of his captor and said simply, “That belongs to me.”

In response, Lynd merely smiled. He knelt down in front of Gribardsun as if to speak, then brought the back of his hand hard against Gribardsun’s face. Despite the force of the blow, the time traveler barely flinched; a tiny trickle of blood ran down from the corner of Gribardsun’s lip, but he did not speak.

Lynd rose to full height and stood silently for a moment. He announced, “I believe I am going to enjoy watching you die.”

“You are not the first to have expressed such sentiments,” Gribardsun replied evenly. “I doubt you shall be the last.”

“We shall see.” Lynd turned and took a couple of steps away, then whirled back to face Gribardsun. “You should consider yourself fortunate,” he said. “I wanted to merely kill you and be done with it. But my warriors were so impressed by your fighting skills that they felt a simple execution would be...” He paused as if searching for the right words, then concluded, “a terrible waste.”

“No doubt you’ll be able to think of something appropriately entertaining,” Gribardsun observed.

Lynd smiled, his lion-like teeth and eyes gleaming in the firelight. “I believe I already have,” he stated. He turned and pointed at a tent at the far end of the camp. “In that tent we are holding one of my people—a criminal and traitor, found guilty of treason against his emperor. I’ve been trying to think of a punishment befitting his transgressions. It occurs to me that pitting the two of you against one another in battle would be a worthy solution to both questions. And so tomorrow morning that is exactly what will occur.”

“A battle to the death, then,” Gribardsun said. “And what becomes of the winner?”

Lynd smiled again. “The ‘winner’ is given the opportunity to live long enough to return with us to our city, and witness my marriage to that exquisite female who accompanied you here,” he replied. “Then he shall be chained to an altar and sacrificed as an offering to our gods.”

A look of horror fell over von Billman’s features. Gribardsun glared at Lynd. “Where is Rachel?” he demanded.

“In the tent next to mine, being attended to by several of my other wives,” Lynd told him. He knelt down in front of Gribardsun again. “Whatever other reason you might have had for coming here, I am grateful to you for bringing this Rachel to me. She’s not like the other women here. There’s a fire in her that I find most appealing.”

He stood up and added, “Yes, I shall indeed enjoy watching you die.”

“As you said, we shall see,” Gribardsun told him.

Lynd merely laughed as he turned and strode back toward his tent, his guards right behind him. Von Billman watched until they entered the tent, turned to Gribardsun with a distressed expression. “I have an uneasy feeling, my friend, that you may have made too strong an impression upon our host.”

Gribardsun nodded. “I seem to have that effect on some people,” he said humorlessly. Both men fell silent, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

* * *

A stinging cloud of loose dirt, kicked up into his face by one of Lynd’s guards, roused Gribardsun from his slumber. For a moment he forgot he was bound to the tree, causing the guard to laugh when Gribardsun was unable to stand. The guard loosened the leather straps and pulled Gribardsun to his feet. Von Billman, awakened by the guard’s laughter, opened his eyes in time to see Gribardsun being led toward a clearing on the opposite side of the camp where the rest of Lynd’s party was assembled.

At the same time, from the tent Lynd had pointed out the previous night, another guard emerged with a second member of his race, this one with his arms secured behind him and a heavy chain binding his ankles together. Both prisoners were brought to the center of the clearing and stood before Lynd, seated and posturing like Caesar at the Colosseum, flanked by two guards and several Magdalenian women Gribardsun guessed to be favorites from his harem. To Lynd’s immediate left stood Rachel, her uniform tunic replaced by a halter top and loincloth made of some silken-type fabric, the latter held in place by an ornate belt of gold.

Rachel’s expression was one of both fear and defiance of this monster who claimed her as his bride. Her face first seemed to brighten as she saw Gribardsun, but that light faded and her shoulders sagged as the realization of what was about to happen hit home.

Lynd peered up at the prisoners but said nothing. Instead he gestured toward their escorts, who reached behind and drew their broadswords from the scabbards strapped across their backs. After handing their swords to the prisoners, the guards turned and marched to opposite ends of the clearing to stand with their comrades.

Rising from his chair, Lynd took a step forward and addressed the prisoners. “Soon enough, the gods will feast upon both your souls,” he said softly, before stepping back again and holding one arm up over his head. Looking around at his followers, Lynd announced loudly, “Let the battle begin!”

He dropped his arm, and Gribardsun barely managed to sidestep the blow as his opponent brought up his sword and swung it down at Gribardsun’s skull. He swung again, and Gribardsun parried and caught the blade upon his own. He stuck one leg out, causing the other to stumble and drop down to one knee. At first the fall seemed to have little effect as he and Gribardsun exchanged blows, sparks flying as their swords crashed repeatedly against one another. Because of his greater height, the kneeling alien stood eye to eye with Gribardsun; it was only due to his own extraordinary strength and prowess—the product of his unique upbringing and a lifetime of experience—that Gribardsun was able to hold his own in the face of such a formidable adversary.

Eventually, Gribardsun managed to press a slight advantage, pushing his crouching rival further backward as he held his blade against the other. Then Gribardsun’s blade slid up toward the tip of the other sword. His opponent used the shift in weight to drop below Gribardsun’s sword and roll to one side, his elbow striking the back of Gribardsun’s knee. The action knocked Gribardsun off balance, allowing his adversary to jump back to his feet and assume an offensive stance. Gribardsun whirled and quickly brought his blade up to meet the other at mid-swing.

For several minutes they battled back and forth, and Gribardsun thought he saw remorse in the other’s expression. “I have no wish to kill you,” the alien warrior told him.

“That is good,” Gribardsun answered as they continued exchanging blows, “for I do not plan to die.” He brought his sword up over his head and swung down, only to have the blow parried again.

“You do not understand,” the warrior said. “We will both die this day.”

“Perhaps,” Gribardsun conceded. “But if it is to be, let it not be at the whim of one such as Teran Lynd.” He took a step backward and lowered his sword. “I have no fight with you,” he said. Then he threw down his sword, turned and began to walk back toward where Lynd was sitting.

His opponent stood there for a moment, unsure how to react, and a roar of disapproval swept through the group of spectators. Lynd leaned forward in his chair and frowned. “It would seem that your champion is a coward after all,” he told Rachel, who merely closed her eyes in despair but said nothing.

Gribardsun had taken nine or ten steps when he suddenly stopped and gazed forward, his eyes locked on Lynd’s. For a moment the corners of Gribardsun’s mouth pulled up into just the slightest trace of a smile. He took one step backward and broke into a sprint, leaping forward and knocking Lynd out of his chair. Rachel and the other women managed to jump aside just before impact. Lynd fell to the ground and was knocked unconscious when his head struck a rock. Gribardsun quickly jumped to his feet and found himself facing the two guards who had been at Lynd’s side, both of whom darted forward with daggers drawn to protect their leader.

But Gribardsun was too fast for them. He grabbed one guard’s wrist and swung him around, forcing his dagger deep into the chest of the other. As the second guard fell dead Gribardsun twisted the first’s arm behind his back, breaking the limb in the process and pushing him to the ground. Gribardsun then spun round and retrieved the dagger from the other guard’s chest, taking time to also grab both the guard’s firearm and the keys.

Gribardsun rose and fired the weapon in the direction of the warriors who had been watching the fight, felling four of them in rapid succession. In the ensuing confusion the other warriors drew their own guns, but because of their close proximity to one another they were unable to return fire without the risk of hitting their own comrades. Several of them instead drew their daggers and rushed forward to battle Gribardsun hand to hand, but the time traveler fought with a ferocity none of them had anticipated.

Gribardsun drove his sword into the chest of one of the warriors, pulled it out and swung around to sever another opponent’s leg just above the knee. The wounded warrior toppled into the path of one of his comrades, knocking him off balance. Gribardsun seized the moment and sliced through the warrior’s torso, his sword moving upward from just above the right hip to the left shoulder.

The two halves of the body fell in opposite directions. A battle roar issued from the throat of a fourth warrior as he charged in Gribardsun’s direction. Gribardsun picked up the leg he had severed earlier and threw it at the charging combatant. The soldier dodged the detached limb but stumbled over part of the body that had been cleaved in two. He landed on his face and rolled over in time to see the tip of Gribardsun’s sword driving downward into his face.

In rapid succession Gribardsun dispatched three more warriors, two with his sword and the third with the gun as he dodged a death blow from that fighter’s blade. Gribardsun whirled round to face yet another opponent, but stopped short when he realized the latter was the warrior Lynd had forced him to fight. At his feet lay the soldier whose leg had been cut off, the sword Gribardsun had earlier tossed aside protruding from his chest. Without a word the warrior withdrew the sword and held it out toward Gribardsun. Shifting the gun to his other hand, Gribardsun took back the sword, and together the two of them continued battling against Lynd’s troops.

After running his sword through one of the warriors, Gribardsun turned and caught a glimpse of Rachel cowering by one of the nearby trees. He sprinted in her direction and she rushed forward to meet him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling herself close. “Are you all right?” he asked.