The Clovel Destroyer (6 page)

Snap.

He heard a footstep to the right of his position and
Urith turned his head, his eyes alert to any movement.

Rustle.

Now, he thought he heard movement on ahead of him.
Urith could feel the sweat trickle down his face. While he knew the
monster to be tricky, the Esterblud warrior forced himself to
remain calm. Panic could get him killed quickly. He decided he
could be hearing other animals stirring around the forest floor.
Suddenly, he sensed something close to him. Slowly he turned to see
if the Clovel might be stealthily coming from behind. Seeing
nothing, but still feeling something watching him, Urith carefully
moved over to his left. As he placed his hand on the tree next to
him, the warrior caught a glimpse of something near his hand. A
single leaf, brown and curled, brushed his arm. The sight sent a
chill through the man as he finally understood. The monster’s lair
was above him.

Urith jumped back from the tree just in time as a
massive white creature landed where the warrior had just stood.
Rebounding high into the air from its large, squat legs, the Clovel
recovered from missing its prey by landing halfway up a tree on the
other side of the scrambling warrior. The monster slid down the
tree, dragging its claws through the tree bark to control it’s
decent. With only a slight pause it
leaped
in
the air again, trying to land upon Urith. The warrior held out the
sword, trying to cause the Clovel to impale itself, but the
creature moved too fast. It swept its long arm, knocking away the
outstretched blade of the sword. The creature’s next leap nearly
landed it upon the man who was just able to avoid the slashing
claws. Urith dove to the ground, tumbling over into the dense
brush. The young warrior knew he was at a disadvantage now. He
heard the roar of the monster as it barreled into the brush after
him. Urith scrambled back to his feet as the hairy creature
advanced with a quad pedal gate. It roared again and
this time,
the warrior saw the long muzzle exposing
massive black teeth as it charged him. He swung his sword into the
face of the creature, but the monster shook off the blow, swiping
its long arm which slammed into the warrior’s shield. The shield
nearly shattered as the force sent the man to the ground on his
side. Urith quickly spun under the brush, swiftly crawling behind a
tree. He slid himself up along the rough bark, into a standing
position as he heard the creature tear through the brush. Coming to
a stop next to the tree where its prey scent was strongest, the
monster
remained hunched over low, sniffing
the air. It looked over just in time to see the warrior strike at
its neck, forcing the point of the sword into the white fur. Black
blood spurted out, and the creature whipped its head and clamped
onto the man's leg, trying to drag him down.

Urith screamed, more from fear than pain, as he
smashed the edge of his shield into the
Clovel’s
muzzle. The creature let the man loose, allowing
the warrior to retreat. The monster came at him again, determined
to rip the human apart. The Esterblud struck again at the beast,
hitting it in the
jawbone
and opening up
another wound. However, he saw the spot where he
hit
the
creature
before was now
healed, leaving only black blood stains. He understood this was why
the monster was nearly indestructible; its’ wounds healed almost
immediately.

Feverishly considering his options, Urith continued
to use the foliage to his advantage. He ducked into another dense
area of brush and tried to catch his breath. The Esterblud knew the
monster would fight him until he made a mistake. His mind raced as
he thought of vulnerable spots of all creatures. Suddenly, instead
of pushing through the brush, the Clovel jumped high above him,
landing in the tree. Surprised, Urith ran around the tree, then
stopped, observing the monster, readying for its next move. The
Clovel suddenly
leaped
down, intent on landing
on the warrior. Urith raised his sword in time to impale the
creature. The monster howled in pain, as Urith stepped back,
withdrawing his sword only to follow up with a hack into the
beast’s side. The monster howled again, turning to face the
warrior. Expecting the move, Urith was ready. He shoved his sword
into the red eye of the beast. The young
man
’s
aim was
true,
and the most deadly monster
brought forth by the Guardians died at his feet.

A wave of satisfaction swept across Urith as he
limped away from the creature. He bent over to examine his wounded
leg. The bite was minor, mostly bruised. His
thick
leather bindings were able to withstand the
creature’s bite. As he caught his breath, he suddenly heard the
soft sound of sobbing. The forest still remained deathly quiet as
he followed the sound through the brush until he came upon a
footpath. He followed the path, his nose picking up the smell wood
smoke as he eventually came to a clearing. Pausing, he heard the
soft chants of a death song in Esterblud. So deep in the remote
areas outside of his lands, the use of his tribal language
surprised him. As he walked to the sound, he heard the words which
struck him.

“
Your hopes and desires will be
silent understanding of the beyond. Release my spirit to the
eternal world of bliss,” said a young voice. When Urith emerged
from the forest, he saw, ahead of him in the clearing, a young girl
with her back to him. Deeper
into
the
clearing, he found a partially built wooden hut. The Esterblud
realized the settlers must have made the unfortunate decision to
settle near the lair of the Clovel. Taking a deep breath, he strode
toward the lone figure.

Lying on the ground in front of the girl were two
bodies. As he got closer, he could see the mangled remains of a man
and woman. Other bodies lay near the home, extended family to help
on the farm. When he reached the girl, the young warrior reached
down, then recoiled when the girl turned her head.

It was the face of an old man who looked at Urith.
With
thick
folds of wrinkled skin and bleach
gray hair covering parts of the face, the apparition smiled a
toothless grin.

“
Stare upon the hallowed dead,
young hero. Are the deaths of my mother and father not worthy of
eternal peace like your warriors?” The old face growled at him in a
voice that seemed strangely familiar. The warrior could think of
nothing to say. His mouth suddenly went dry when he saw the scar
from the old man’s lip to his ear. “No, the worth of such peasants
is meaningless to your world. These spirits must travel to the
underworld, honorable in life, yet still not worthy of the Sky
Realm.
Spirits
gathered by gods unworthy of
the title. I would ask why must we worship gods
who
use our souls as fodder for their games?”

The little girl with the
old
face rose to confront him The body grew in size, the skin now
blackened and the face transforming to become a spare, birdlike
face with large pointed ears. The foul creature floated above the
ground.

“
You placed yourself above the
gods, little man. You believe you can decide who is allowed into
the sky realm. My brother does not take such dissidence lightly.
Instead of Haligulf, you condemn your favored souls to play inside
my throne of pain,” the voice of Caruun, master of the underworld
informed the warrior. The ghoulish figure suddenly vanished,
leaving the dreaming man to look upon the mutilated bodies at his
feet. He suddenly recognized the faces. Uolven and Earmis stared
back at him with open, dead eyes.

Urith’s screams woke
Guthlaf,
who was sleeping in the room. He found his friend lashing out in
his sleep. Finally, the man shook Urith awake after several tries,
narrowly avoiding his friend’s massive fists lashing out at him.
The giant blinked his eyes as he sat up, forcing himself to lean
against the wall. He remembered the
horrible
vision and slumped at the thoughts filling his head.

“
The gods have told me their
decision.” Urith’s voice was nearly a whisper.

“
What do you mean?” Guthlaf asked
him, then fell quiet when he realized what his friend was talking
about. He rose to his feet and found an overturned chair to sit
upon, waiting
for the warrior
to continue.
“Listen, you are not a seer. We all have nightmares.

“
No, I don’t have such visions
like this.” Urith shook his head, wiping the sweat that stuck his
sandy hair to his forehead. “I was there again, in the woods,
taking on the Clovel. It was
exactly as
I
remembered. After I had
killed
the creature, I
came upon the little girl whose family was slaughtered by it, just
like before. But,
this time,
her face was old,
like a bitter old man. It was me, Guthlaf with my scarred face.
Then, I saw
Caruun,
who showed me the bodies
of my father and wife.” There was agony in his expression, tortured
at what he remembered. His face felt on fire as if the dream
embedded itself in his wound.

Guthlaf attempted to reassure him. “Listen, you are
worn out from infection with your injury. You know such things
create mad ravings. Don’t let a dream throw you. Remember, the
hakra told your father a great destiny awaits.”

Urith thought about his words, thinking back to the
prophet who told Uolven of his son’s fortune many seasons before.
According
to his father, the seer
said
Urith would have a great destiny. G
reat
fury was foreseen by the seer, along
with a terrible
burden Urith would carry. This was a
prophecy not even known by Guthlaf. His dream about the gods and
their world came back to him. Under his breath, Urith cursed the
gods, while wondering if he had
actually
condemned the souls of his father and wife. Then, he came up an
idea and scrambled to his feet.

“
I must find a hakra,” he told
Guthlaf as he grabbed his weapons. His friend followed him out into
the narrow hallway, trying to put on his own weapons.

“
The Shrine of Duwdamon is where
the
Oracle
resides. They say she
is challenging to see
. What makes you think she will
allow you inside the shrine?”

Urith turned to his friend, painfully removing the
covering stuck to his face. It began oozing a bloody pus. “This
will be my way in,” he mysteriously told his friend.

The Esterblud
warriors
went
into the morning light, heading to the main square of the city. The
cut stone streets smelled from the open sewer running down the
middle. The dry spell left much of the rubbish from humans and
animals rotting.
Usually,
the rains would wash
such trash away into the sea
.
On either side
of the streets were
low
, squat buildings of
timber and clay construction, their thatched roofs bleached light
brown from the sun. By the time they reached the
shrine,
the city was springing to
life
, with dozens of carts and wagons arriving. Traders
and merchants began opening their buildings around the square to
those suddenly filling the area from nearby homes.

At the end of the street, the two men turned to the
raised platform where the Fountain of Destiny sat. They heard the
water coming from the fountain as they climbed the steps of white
and gray stones. At the
top,
they met two
guards dressed in blue robes with hard leather helmets. Each was
armed with a long pike as the stood sentry behind closed iron
gates. One of the guards ordered them away.

“
It is probably best,” Urith
suddenly confided to his friend,
bellowing
.
“These oracles are nothing more than a fraud. They prey upon the
weak minded.” Guthlaf gave his friend a look of shocked disbelief.
Such words were dangerous in the lands of Kamin.

“
You cannot say such things
against the
Oracle
. Your blasphemy will be
punished by death,” one of the guards told them. “Now get out of
here.”

“
You see this wound,” Urith
pointed to his grotesque cheek. “No hakra told me about this. Why
is that? It’s b
ecause your destiny comes only when
you pay enough.
Take my words to your master, if you are no
eunuch.”

The guards leveled their pikes at the
Esterblud,
who held his ground while Guthlaf took a pace
back, unsure what his friend was doing. For a tense moment, he
wondered if he would have to fight alongside his friend. Suddenly a
figure appeared behind the guards. A woman with dark skin, dressed
in a long white and gold hooded robe clapped twice, catching one of
the guard’s attention. Both turned, immediately bowing as she
strolled silently to the gate. She looked over the
warriors
carefully, paying particular attention to Urith.
She nodded to the lead guard who reluctantly opened the gate.

“
You may enter Urith of the Penhda
clan,” she turned, walking away. The giant warrior gave the guard a
sneer, despite the pain in his face, confidently entering the
shrine. Guthlaf tried to follow, but he was cut off by the guard
who slammed the gate shut. Resigned to waiting, the young warrior
sat on a step, turning to watch over his shoulder as Urith walked
out of sight.

As the giant warrior passed the fountain, he
resisted an urge to reach out and touch the cooling water. Despite
his blaspheming talk, he still held some respect for the beliefs of
his land. However, he was well aware of the underhanded ways of
those who mislead followers for their own benefit. He followed the
woman to a shaded spot under a large, twisted lellowtere tree. The
woman sat on a bench, pulling back the hood of her robe to reveal
her short cropped white hair while she looked
at
the warrior again. She was
a
lovely
woman with high cheekbones and a blue tattoo of a
star under her bottom lip.