The Beast of Finger Wood - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sparrow shot first, sending an arrow flying into the creature’s back as it began to charge. It was as big as the trapper had said it was, and charging along on its spindly legs it was Graeme’s height and half again.

Bolts flew at the creature, those that hit penetrating its flesh, but not slowing it in the slightest. It charged on as they reloaded, taking a second volley as it approached. Sparrow continued shooting arrow after arrow into its back, hitting with four before the second, staggered volley was launched. Ian and Annette threw aside their crossbows as the creature drew close, but just before it reached them it bobbed down, before launching itself in the air.

It landed on the other side of the pair, and barrelled towards the closest villager – one of the hunters. I think it might be smarter than it looks, thought Sparrow, swooping down to the ground.

“Fuck!” yelled Graeme, as the creature landed on behind them. He and Annette charged at it, hoping to get a strike at its vulnerable back (which Sparrow had peppered with arrows) but it was to fast for them, out pacing them and quickly running down one of the hunters.

Its head darted forwards and snapped at the man, biting off one of his arms and half his chest. As the hunter’s body fell down dead, blood dripping on the ground, the beast started rushing the next nearest hunter.

“Run to us!” yelled Graeme. “Then it will have to deal with us!” He ran towards the beast, Annette following close behind. He saw bolts, and Sparrow’s arrows flying overhead, some hitting the beast in the back. It was bleeding from the numerous hits, but seemed undeterred.

The Midevor knew it would not survive, but it would fight to the death regardless. It was in the fight of its life – the last, and greatest. Eleven foes who had seen it coming, and been unable to stop it from killing at least one of them.

It leapt into one of the villagers as he ran; knocking him over. Quickly, it snapper up his arm and head with two bites, before spitting the body parts out as it ran towards its third victim.

It noticed that they were drawing together, rushing towards the knights. The Midevor placed itself between the knights and the third villager, who came to a stop when it appeared in front of him.

With a sick grin, the Midevor leapt up and came down on top of the villager. It raked its teeth through the man’s back, tearing through his spine and rib cage. Then it spun around, and charged at the knights who stood before the five surviving villagers. It saw the winged one launch into the air, and it knew she would get behind it again. It had a plan for her; but it knew it would likely die before it could kill her.

“How does it live?” yelled James, terrified. The beast had killed two of the hunters – old Mr. Dawnsley and his cousin Victor – and Edwin already.

“It’s big, old, and incredibly mean,” replied Graeme, readying his sword. “Stop talking, and focus on firing!”

James reloaded his crossbow, and sent another bolt flying into the creature as it charged towards them, almost bristling with bolts.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned back to see the Mayor. “Good shot,” he said.

From above, Sparrow could see the creature rushing towards the group, the three villagers, James and the Mayor standing behind Annette and Graeme, who were both wielding swords and shields.

I think this is more the situation for a big ol’ spear, or a lot of big ol’ spears, Sparrow thought to herself, as she sent another arrow flying. She was almost out; and didn’t relish the idea of going after one of the arrows she had missed with. I guess they know what they’re doing. The damn thing better hurry up and fucking die, though.

As the Midevor attempted to barrel into Graeme, he and Annette quickly moved to both be in the creature’s path, swords laid out straight before them. It knocked the two of them over, but stumbled and rolled past into the villagers as the swords cut deep into its flesh.

Graeme retained his hold upon his sword, but Annette lost her grip. Sparrow saw her pull a dagger out, and she and Graeme advanced on the creature.

“Back up!” Graeme yelled to the villagers. He could feel where the Midevor had cannoned into him quite easily. It was wherever it hurt; the impact had bruised him severely (and hopefully only bruised him). He – for a moment – envied Annette her healthier physiology, as they rushed  to the Midevor, hoping to strike it before it arose.

It was too fast for them – one of its legs lashed out and knocked James towards it; it drew itself up with its other three feet and managed to bite his right arm off just as Graeme and Annette reached it. Graeme’s blade slashed out, carving into one of the creature’s legs, while Annette went underneath and slashed its belly.

From above, Sparrow dropped onto the creature’s head, overbalancing it and causing it to fall face first to the ground, sending Sparrow tumbling. Graeme quickly moved up and hacked into the belly, joining Annette who was doing the same.

The Midevor scrabbled around a bit as it bled turquoise blood everywhere. It managed to bash Graeme with one of its legs, knocking him over, but he quickly got to his feet.

“Did we get it?” asked Sparrow, dropping in beside Annette and Graeme.

“Help us keep cutting. It might be gathering its strength for a final blow,” replied Graeme.

As they cut, the Mayor bound James’ stump. The Midevor had bitten off his arm about ten centimetres past the elbow, and it was bleeding profusely.

“Am I going to – to die?” asked James, pleadingly.

“No, it’ll be fine,” said the Mayor. “I’ve stopped the bleeding mostly already. You’ll need a few months to recover, but we have the infection sealing magic goop, remember, and that’s what would’ve killed you.”

“Th-thanks,” said James, “for saving me.”

The Mayor pecked him on the cheek. “You’re very silly, and very brave. Now stay calm, and don’t move. Greg! Come over here and look after James. I need to talk to our heroes.”

“Alright,” said one of the villagers, wandering over.

“It’s definitely dead now,” said Graeme, staring at the creature’s corpse. Turquoise blood was everywhere, and all over the three of them. Graeme flicked some onto the ground.

The Midevor lay with its legs sprawled every which way, face in the grass. The back of the beast – and its underbelly – hand been hacked to pieces. The blood from the cuts – and various arrows and chunks of flesh that had been cut loose – was everywhere. It blood was thicker than human blood, but not by much.

“I think I need a bath,” said Sparrow, looking at the blood drenching her clothes.

“Three men are dead, and James has lost his arm,” interrupted the Mayor. “This is a debacle. The creature out-manoeuvred us with ease.”

“I am sorry,” said Graeme, solemnly. “But it is only rarely that a hunt such as this goes well. This is the largest Midevor I have fought – though I have only fought three before.”

“So much for great heroes fighting the beast while we help bring it down,” said the Mayor. He took a deep breath. “You will get your reward, and you have saved many lives from the creature’s hunger. Would that we could have slain it without loss.”

“We are not quite finished here,” said Graeme. “We must find and cleanse the beast’s lair, for I suspect it has young. Whoever stays behind should burn the Midevor’s body with some of our oil, as well.”

The Mayor thought for a moment, before saying loudly, “Greg, come with me. Rodney and Millicent, stay here. Ready the bodies for carrying, burn the Midevor, and take care of James.” The Mayor turned his attention to the group. “Let’s go. Greg will track the beast’s trail back to its lair.”

Greg found the trail as the group gathered the three horses. The two villagers took some of the oil the horses carried, and the group set off, Sparrow taking to the air to keep an eye out just in case. They followed the Midevor’s trail for only a few hundred metres before they came to a cave, and Graeme signalled for Sparrow to drop to the ground.

As she landed, she said, “This is it?”

“Yes,” said Graeme. “Now, if there are young inside, there will be three to seven of them. I have no idea how large they will be, but as the Midevor does not change lair while guarding its young, and it has been in this area for a few months, they may be up to about waste height. Their teeth, however, will not be particularly strong yet, so Annette and myself will be alright. The rest of you should wait outside and shoot any that flee.”

“Okay,” said the Mayor, and the rest nodded their assent.

As Annette and Graeme retrieved the torches and oil, Sparrow grabbed her spare quiver. She had lost track of the horses during battle, and had forgotten about the spare quiver – although she wouldn’t have had time to grab it in the heat of battle.

Annette and Graeme lit their torches. “Wish us luck,” Annette said.

“Good luck,” said the Mayor and Greg.

“Good luck and be careful,” said Sparrow. “There’s been enough deaths already.”

As Annette and Graeme entered the cave, their torches cast flickering light over the walls. Graeme led, sword drawn, while Annette followed with oil clutched closely to her. Each of them also carried glass jar on their backs, as well.

The cave seemed to extend downwards, more or less flatly, before swinging left in front of them. They carefully advanced – they both noticed dry blood all over the floor. The air reeked of rotting flesh, and little else.

As they drew near the bend in the cave, they heard a faint scrabbling sound, followed by another scrabbling sound, and another. Graeme said “They’re hatched already, put the oil down and get ready. They’ll try to get past us, although the might take a bite as they pass.”

The noises drew nearer as the pair quickly set down their oil. They stepped back from the bend a little, and Annette drew her sword, readying herself. They waited, blocking the passage as well as possible, as the sounds came closer, and closer.

With a thudding noise, a small Midevor – just above knee height – ran wildly into the bend in the cave wall. Two more quickly followed it, though these two turned successfully and ran at Annette and Graeme. When the fastest attempted to dart past him, Graeme slashed at it with his sword, cutting it in half. Annette swung at the second, severing two of its legs. The small Midevor stumbled and rolled past them, screeching horrendously.

Another two Midevor young came around the corner, and Graeme said, “Finish it quickly.” At the sound of on of their own screeching, the others joined in, and three screaming Midevors charged at Graeme as one; another screech also seeming to come from further down the passage.

    Annette finished off the Midevor by stabbing it through the head violently, and Graeme’s first slash cut another’s head in half through its mouth. The other two made it past him, only for Annette to pin one to the ground after stabbing her sword down through it.
    It struggled for a moment and then stopped moving. The third Midevor dodged past Annette as she removed her sword. “Go after it!” said Graeme, as he turned to face what he thought was the last – which had just made it around the corner, still screeching loudly.
    “Alright!” yelled Annette, pulling her sword out of the Midevor and running after the one that had slipped past her.
    As she ran, she called out, “One got past! Shoot it!” to those outside.
    Up ahead, barely out of the cave, she saw the young Midevor get hit by a bolt and an arrow, and tumble to the ground. Another arrow joined soon after; Annette yelled “Hold!” and ran to the creature, cutting it deeply with her sword.
    “I’ll be back after we kill the rest,” said Annette, “Then I’m pretty sure Graeme will want some help moving the corpses.”

    Graeme easily dispatched the sixth Midevor, and waited for Annette to return. She jogged up from the cave entrance, and he said, “Did you get it?”
    “Yes,” she replied, unsheathing her sword again. She held her torch aloft to get a better view. “Think there’ll be any more?”
    “Unlikely, but don’t get complacent,” replied Graeme.
    Annette nodded, and the pair headed deeper into the cave, rounding the bend. It snaked for a while, twisting back and forth; the dried blood and rotten smell persisting. Eventually they came to a dead end with a pit; the pair of them gagged when they saw the contents.
    The pit was full of partially eaten limbs, and bones. Some of the blood seemed relatively fresh; as did the limbs. “That’s disgusting,” said Annette. “Worse than that snatcher plant’s pit.”
    “It is,” said Graeme. “We’re done here, though. There’s nowhere large enough for them to have fit and snuck off through in this cave. Let’s go get the rest, and burn it all.”

    They returned to the entrance of the cave, and got Sparrow, Greg and the Mayor to follow them inside; Greg hauling the corpse of the Midevor that had made it outside. They gathered up all the dead Midevors, and dumped the bodies in the pit. Graeme and Annette covered the contents of the pit with oil, before lighting it with a torch.
    They stood, watching the flames, for a while, before the smell forced them out. As they left the cave, Sparrow said, “Well, that was an adventure.”
    “Thank you all,” said the Mayor. “You will receive your reward upon our return to the village.”
    “Aye, thank you,” said Greg. “It’s terrible we lost some, but it’s better that a few die now than many later from that beast and its young.”
    Graeme nodded solemnly, and said, “Reward us as you see fit.”

    They walked in silence back to the site of the battle against the adult Midevor. The corpse had been lit, and was spewing forth smoke as they approached. They rejoined Millicent and Rodney, who were kneeling by James.
    “He’s passed out,” Rodney said to the Mayor.
    “He was muttering incoherently as well, but he’ll live, I reckon,” said Millicent, scratching her head idly.
    “Get the bodies up on the horses; let’s head on home,” said the Mayor. The group did so; and they began the trek back to the village. Sparrow stayed behind to collect arrows she had missed with, before launching herself up into the sky to catch up.

    They spent the trip mostly in silence, the dead casting a gloom over their victory. Graeme’s mind worked through the battle, thinking about how it should have been done, to avoid the deaths. Backing off when I realised how big it was seems like the best plan, actually, he thought, but we had to try. We lucked out when it charged us. Damn things are too cunning.
    High above, Sparrow kept an eye out again, just in case. It gave her something to do, and kept her away from the gloomy bastards. She smirked to herself as she looked around. I guess it’s a little callous, but I’ve seen far more innocent lives lost in the wild area, and not just to monsters, she thought. Three dead is nothing; hell, that border conflict between two would-be lordlings out in the middle of nowhere was so much worse…
    Annette kept her face solemn as they walked, but inside she was pretty pleased. It was the biggest, nastiest thing she had helped Graeme kill, and the losses were not the worst she had seen as Graeme’s squire. Not by much, admittedly, she thought to herself as they walked.

    When they reached the village, the mayor had Greg and Millicent carry James to the village’s clinic; and Rodney lead the horses carrying the corpses to the morgue to be prepared for burial. “That place has seen far too much use recently,” he said. “Follow me, we’ll see to your reward now. Rodney’ll bring the horses by after.”
    They made their way to the Mayor’s home, and went inside. He led them into his office, and sat behind his desk (which was elegantly carved and made of finely polished wood).
    He drew out a drawer from his desk, and withdrew a small pouch. “Two gold dukals, and fifty silver,” he said, setting the pouch down. “It’s pretty much all we could get together to make the reward.”
    Graeme took the pouch. “Thank you for your generosity,” he said, looking at the Mayor. “You truly have no need of this?”
    “It is what everyone in the village could spare,” said the Mayor, “Although I provided much of it from the village taxes.”
    Graeme nodded, and Annette added, “Thanks!”
    “I shall organise a feast in honour of our victory for tonight, should you be able to stay,” said the Mayor.
    “Of course,” replied Graeme. “We didn’t expect to find the creature so fast; we would be glad to spend the day and night here. May we retain use of the house for one more day?”
    The Mayor nodded. “Once again, thank you all. I will see you tonight.”

    The party returned to their base. Sparrow stayed within all day, fixing her arrows and working on several new ones; Annette and Graeme found the village blacksmith and organised to have a couple of dents beaten out of their armour.
    During the afternoon, the party sat around in front of the fireplace (which remained unlit), and split the cash. Sparrow exchanged some of her spare silver for the gold, and kept eighty-three silver for herself, with Graeme and Annette keeping the rest.
    Sparrow grinned widely at the reward. “Not bad for a couple of weeks with only one dangerous fight,” she said.
    Graeme shook his head, chuckling. “Don’t let your greed get the better of you. The greatest rewards are for the deadliest of beasts,” he said.
    “So where are you heading next, if you want to keep me around?” Sparrow asked.

“Are you sure you want to help?” asked Annette. “I don’t think we can afford to pay your rate…”

“I don’t mind, as you probably saw when I was swapping the gold for silver, I have a lot of money I’m not using. I’ll survive,” she said. “I think it’s time to do some good, and be a bit of a hero.”

Annette smiled, and Graeme said, “We don’t know where we’re heading next yet, but you’re welcome to help us.” He had put some thought into it, and had realised that a flying archer and scout was a considerable advantage – worth far more than her rates.

“Sweet!” said Sparrow, grinning. “Time to head to the feast now, right? Time for a drink or two.”

With a grin, Graeme nodded.

Throughout the feast, they drank, ate and talked merrily. They traded stories of their pasts, and of their home lands. The Mayor joined the conversation, and spun the best of the local tales for their entertainment; and all were happy.

Late in the night, they stumbled back to their base, drunk and ecstatic.

The next morning saw them hungover; but after seeing to their business about town they left for a larger town, to see what adventure they could find. The Mayor saw them off as they left, waving as the knight and squire sat upon their horses, leading two donkeys, and Sparrow soared overhead, flickering in and out of the sun’s glare.

“This will make a pretty fine tale,” said the Mayor to himself. “But what’s the moral?” He paused, and smirked. “Maybe there isn’t one.”