The Last Heroes Before Judgement (30 page)

I was in such a good mood the next morning that I did not exercise. I stretched and ate breakfast. Major Swiftblade was already gone. The blood moon had already passed. The hens were nesting happily with their roosters. I even took the time to pray to the allFather and to Mother Moon for granting me the strength to defeat my demon. Then I cleaned off everything.

Laid out in a row, the identical spikes proved to be wooden with only small iron tips. The remnants of the road block were unevenly salvaged from the whole, so I set them aside. The cart I scrubbed first, mixing fertilizer from the blue clucks with the soap to lift out the blood stain. The chest I cleaned next, and they both sat out in the sun to dry. The ground was almost frozen, making a much longer process of my dig for clay. Finally, I had enough to coat my entire shell in a thick layer. Before it could dry, I stamped it with the uneven spike collection.

“If that lion makes the jump, this might actually be worse.”

Even The Lady Dooza was impressed.

“I have seen a beaver with spikes, and even a fish with spikes. But, a turtle with spikes, now I have seen everything.”

The blood ridden waste water drained down into the clay while I rolled the extra cart wheels into the stables. Once the cart itself had been stowed, I covered the ditch and took a nap.

“Alright, little one, time to get up. Now, don’t you forget.”

“Yes ma’am- you warned me ahead of time.”

“Don’t play stupid, boy. When your little trick fails, you had better not come running to me for healing.”

“You would not have helped before.”

“This time, you are aware. Is that not what you seek- the truth?”

“What truth?”

“Are you a coward?”

“No?”

“Are you asking or telling? Hush- I do not care.”

“I am no coward! I will show you, wise Shaman. You will see.”

“I have heard those words before.”

Dooza floated back up the serpentine, giggling at her own jokes. Unfortunately, she was right. I had said those exact words to her before the lion ever moved in to our valley. I began second guessing my entire plan, and nearly had a panic attack. Though the air was still windy and cold, I stripped to feel the sunlight all over. Every time I sat in the Shaman position I remembered how much strength I had summoned to control the red shadow and, eventually, decided further preparations were necessary.

None of the spikes dropped off my shell when I slid it on my back. I even jumped and stomped just to be sure. I grabbed a long pike in each hand and set out into the grassland. With the last light of day, I scouted for the best areas and any sign of the beast with no tail. Of course, he had left absolutely none behind. Without any tracks, I was left with discounting areas in which I knew he would not be willing to hunt.

Out in the open would be a mistake for both of us. The tree line was ever more dangerous due to the Opa. I happened on a bear’s territory and was grateful that he had outlined the perimeter by digging his claws into several trees. I immediately gave up on any area with steed droppings. Neither one of us wanted to face those giant hooves again. I ended up siting on a gathering of rocks and losing my confidence with the day light. The eagles screeched in horror at the sight of me near their food source, and that’s when the idea struck me.

“What is their problem? Huh? Oh my- burrowing rats! Hmm, what do cats like to eat most of all? Come here. I got you, no wait. No! Oh, the irony!”

The eagles were living off of a constant supply of long whistling rats that had burrowed tunnels into their grassy field. Trying to catch one was a mistake, as I only succeeded in tripping over several holes and landing flat on my back. There I was, a turtle on his back, which could not flip his self over. I laughed and was happy to know that the spikes held fast to the ground. It took me so long to stop laughing at the irony that a few of the rats poked their heads out. They bobbed their little heads, and mimicked me with a low whistle. More than a few ran out to sniff my hair. I jumped up before they could bite me, but not before they could untie the strings in my hair and steal them back underground.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

I dove after one and landed on my stomach. I had to crawl back quickly to stop them from biting my shell and one jumped into my Chron vest and stole away with more of my string. By the time I made it back to the rocks, I was covered in their loose dander and stunk of rat poops. More importantly, I had found the perfect place to build a Nanu Trap. The lion would never gather any momentum with the tunnels beneath his feet. He was much more likely to happen on me by surprise on his way to have rat for dinner. The spikes already had previously dug out holes to fill, and I would not be the primary bait.

I ran back to the compound out in the open and doing flips. A passing herd of red raptors complimented me on my spikes. They ran at me, flanked out, and then let out the barking call that signaled I was not worth the trouble. I ate heartily and filled an empty powder bag with fresh water. I knocked on Dooza’s door to tell her about being stuck on my back. She did not answer.

“Oh, well. You could have had a laugh at me- your loss.”

Nothing could detract from my mood. The predators were learning to fear me, and soon, Major Swiftblade would show me respect. With my honor, and a sword, I chased my dreams to the Nepori Highlands. The Commandoes had slain more pirates than the Seals, and ended the war. Captain Matthius, of course, had led them all to victory.

Two days after the full moon, and the gods were getting antsy. Their little rats refused to allow my pikes at their front door until I had peed on each of them. Marking my territory aggravated the entire colony. I could hear them down below, screeching and fighting one another in a chain reaction of male dominance that I had initiated. A few of the shorter rats were even killed in the scuffles. I felt responsible, and ashamed, but my presence was not the only factor involved.

“All day. All day. All day.”

All day, the gods tortured us with their trickery. After I had the trap set, and the rats no longer knocked over my pikes, I had nothing left to do but wait for the lion with no tail to arrive. Four stacks of rocks held up one of the extra wagon wheels as my leaf covered roof. The spikes I had applied to my shell were too long so I took off the heavy shield and kept it safely under the center of the wheel. I crawled all around it, using it for both cover and shade. No matter, the gods had other plans.

The morning sky cleared up and the air fell dead still. The valley was subjected to a surprise heat wave. All I wanted was to drink water. The heat had turned the sealed bag of water into steam. I dare not open the swollen thing, as all of my water would have simply blown out and away.

I played with the few strings I had left, tying them into characters and focusing my mind on the many ways the lion may approach. Occasionally, one of the rats would stalk past and shoot me a dirty look. From the unseasonable heat and dehydration, my hysteria was so unchecked that it even gave the animals pause. After several hours of shaking and sweating and moaning, the clouds returned. The air cooled down while the wind picked up. Just a few hours before sunset, I was still there waiting. However, I was finally able to drink my water.

The gods were merely playing another trick on Matthius- their least favorite toy. The wind never stopped blowing until the cold had transformed the humid dew into a freezing mist. I never saw the sun go down so quickly in my life. The cold had me curled into a ball with my knees tucked up and into the shell. Shivering, teeth chattering, and shaking are normal. However, just as Jyetta had warned, rock back and forth for too long, and the madness will take hold.

“All day. All day. All day.”

The rats were the first to warn me of an approaching predator. Their lookouts sounded a shrill whistle and the borough emanated the stench of fear. The half-eaten bodies of dead challengers were pushed to the tunnel openings and left as offerings. I began to shake violently and chase shadow men in circles. The peripheral mirage made me close my eyes and beg for mercy. The fear and the shaking and the hunger had taken complete control. The gods had finally gotten what they wanted- I had given up. I could not see Mother Moon but knew that she too had given up on me. Disappointed by my cowardice, she aided her brethren in their quest to end the bloodline of Gojinus. The mist froze in place, the whole ground shook with fear, and her red tainted light drowned the world in blood. I was left powerless to stop the beast they sent to claim my soul.

“Hello? Major Swiftblade?”

Footsteps, made by two feet. Not talons, not boots, and not bothering to hide.

“This is not funny!”

More footsteps, made by a group. Either the wild men were back for revenge, or the Opa had found me first. Right then, I prayed for the lion to find us, and spare the little turtle.

“Damn you bear-kin. I will slay you all.”

“Whoop!”

“What?”

“Whoop- whoop!”

“No- no- no!”

The wild men dared not travel that far west. The entire tree line was screaming and stomping and excreting that rotten egg stench. If not for the Nanu Trap, the Opa would have already eaten man flesh for dinner. The noise was driving me mad until it suddenly stopped. A single reed was thrown and they watched it sail through air whilst collectively holding their breath. A short and deep hum pierced my ears the moment before the sharpened reed came into view. It landed in my clay reinforced shell, and stuck, vibrating and splintering from the force of impact. I shuttered and gasped from the surprise. The army of tall reds went wild in celebration. Foolishly, I called back to them, letting them know that I was still alive.

“You missed- you idiots! And now I have a weapon. I dare you to reveal yourself! Show yourselves cowards!”

They went mostly silent, only whispering in a language that was less complex than that of the raptors. However, I understood damn well what their next message meant. Their reeds slammed against the tree trunks, slow and methodical. The pounding reached a unified tempo and any drummer boy would know that they had sent a challenger into the fray. My frozen and shaking fingers did not have the strength to pull their reed from my shell. A noise from nearby convinced me to hide those fingers before they ended up becoming an Opa snack. I tucked my heels in under the shell and made a small hut for my fingers inside my leather vest. I huffed on them, and wiggled them to regain dexterity. I stopped shaking long enough to muster a hot breath that could be seen in the dark scarlet night.

“No more running!”

I spread my arms wide and prepared to grab the reed. My eyes opened just in time to see the one- eyed lion that had carefully crawled his way across my wagon wheel shelter. He was already prepared to snatch up all of my fingers- their escape mattered little. His giant paw shot through the opening of my vest and each one of his claws extended to full. Starting from my groin, he tore through my weak man flesh and ripped four long lacerations deep into my abdomen. The fool should have finished me off right then and there. Without the sun, and without the red shadow, I reacted the way any beast would have. I could not breathe, but my legs shot out like coiled springs- just as I had intended. The spikes on my shell tore through the beast in too many places to not eventually bleed him dry- then he landed on the iron tipped pikes. He let out a final dying whine, and the Opa fell silent. Some of them, I could hear clearly, were running for dear life.

“Owie.”

I wanted nothing more than to scream. I could not. My mouth filled with more blood at every breath. Standing was more painful than I had ever imagined it could be. Just as I made it to my feet, another reed hummed towards me. Blocking it nearly broke my wrist. Their War Chief let out a final growl in disappointment, then he turned to chase after the safety of numbers.

“Thank you- idiot!”

Both of the long reeds had cracked and split wide where they impacted. After some fussing and bending, they made a perfect set of crutches. Before I began the long journey back, I tied the last bits of string to my hair. The man eating long tooth was no more, and I took one of his weapons as my evidence. Each step hurt my whole body, but I could not stray. After ripping a tooth from the lion, were I to sit back down, I would not have had the energy to stand. The straps from my shell added just enough pressure to the vest to slow the bleeding. The lion’s blood was all over me and warded off any would be attackers. Only a few steps into my long journey back to base, and the rats began to peek out of their holes. Not long after that, they tore the man eater apart. I spit, hoping they left not even a single bite for the crows. They had all night to defile one of their tormentors. By morning, the other predators would know what an army of burrowing rats was truly capable of.

Still wheezing and coughing up blood, I took my time and focused on remaining upright. My training took over. I walked back, slipping on every stone, bleeding out from the artery in my groin. And yet, no animal dared to so much as move in my presence. Even the Opa had learned to fear the little turtle. The valley below Ram’s Peak was mine. Soon, I would have my honor.