HARVEY LOGAN

They sped ahead unaware of what awaited there. Every scrap of delicacy and caution had been left behind. Harvey sighted someone ahead. Was it Siddy or Perkins? He couldn’t tell. Darkness embraced the world.

Shouts and curses were followed by roars, coming from many throats. For Garhala’s sake. What these idiots stepped into? He had no time to ponder the question. The rhino churned behind, trampling everything on its paths save for trees. That blasted rhino supposed to save me not kill me!

A light flickered ahead and for a naïve second Harvey Logan believed that the luck found him. The light turned into a torch held by Siddy, whose panicked gaze jumped between the moving forms in the darkness. Harvey found Red Bill chopping – chopping! – through the mass of nimble shadows. In five heartbeats that Harvey Logan spent watching, mesmerized, the spectacle he noticed more than dozens shiny, pearly eyes. Six paces to Red Bill’s right stood Perkins. And suddenly, Harvey understood that the earlier standoff between Red Bill and the healer wasn’t a death wish on Perkins’ part. The man was lighting fast. In his left hand, he held a hunter’s knife, in the right a machete. Emm was nowhere to be seen.

“We must help—”

The rhino rushed between Harvey and Siddy, sending them flying. All the air was pushed out of Harvey’s lungs. The world whirled. It made him sick. Something else bumped him, it smelled of an earthy fur, when Harvey swung his terrified gaze, a growl froze him to the marrow. A pair of shimmering eyes regarded him with clear, bestial intent – to kill. Harvey Logan was reduced to a meal in those glassy eyes, felt a pity. Not for the jaguar. For himself. The huge cat lunged forward, knocking the conman down. And for some unexplained reason, the beast whimpered, sets of razor-edged teeth appeared as it opened its jaws, perhaps its last defiance in the face of the inevitable. The jaguar died. Its fur became sickly wet and Harvey’s hand couldn’t find a good grip to get the beast off himself. It was heavy. At least as much as two adult men. While Harvey fought the dead carcass of the jaguar, the battle changed into mayhem. The rhino’s three horns slashed and stabbed with unbelievable fastness. Red Bill and Perkins held the jaguars at bay, earning scrapes and scratches. When the rhino appeared among them the game turned into a running contest. Jaguars were quick enough to escape the bulky beast, but humans were a different story. Clumsy, slow, and without a proper vision. Humans were easy prey for the rhino. As Harvey worked to get the jaguar off himself, his mind pondered that paramount question – why the hell the rhino hunt living creatures? Was it not an herbivore?

Emm’s hands reached for the jaguar and together they rolled the body.

“Fast, idiot. We must run for the village.”

The scout didn’t wait for the conman’s reaction. Not that Harvey was eager to show any. He helped himself and saw a jutting arrow from the dead jaguar. That boy! The spot where earlier Red Bill and Perkins had fought the jaguars, was now covered with still shapes and smashed bushes and branches. No sight of them though.

When he caught up with the scout he asked, “what had happened to Siddy?”

“Don’t worry about him. He’d take care of himself.” No, Harvey Logan wasn’t worried about the bandit. Not in the slightest.

***

Harvey Logan realized one thing as he followed Emm. In some capacity, the boy was a genius. Not intellectually, at least not in the way some folks had been at the university. The scout knew things instinctively. At first, Harvey attributed this to the boy’s tribal origin. But he quickly discarded the notion. No one else Harvey Logan knew to have tribal origin displayed anything even closely resembling Emm’s skill. The scout had led them into bushes, then asked Harvey to take the leaves and rub them into his skin and throw away as much of shredded clothes as he dared. He’d explained that jaguars avoided this particular plant, and it’d also confuse the rhino, the bigger threat than the overgrown cats. After witnessing the rhino’s charge, he was no longer skeptical of the danger. They’ve meandered from one hiding spot to another. The battle or whatever it was still raged somewhere ahead. Three times Harvey has thought he could see someone running between trees. Emm didn’t say anything but has slowed down and squatted until something in the boy’s mind told him it was safe to keep going. Harvey has become accustomed to nerve wreaking jobs. Yes, he’d been younger back then, chasing high-risk-high-reward cons, but memories have remained locked in his skull. Now, he contemplated, surrounded by a sultry, moisture-rich blackness, what had happened to him? He had been … no, he still was the Master of Theatrical Arts. The first conman to tap into the vast web of politics of Royal Houses. He should accept the risk and press forward without a shiver. Master my ass, he thought. I’m getting old that’s all there is. I need to figure out a way to disappear. Preferably in the south. A house on the beach will do. He understood all this positive thinking. His mind once more tried to distract him. In the Red Cities, he could play as he liked, but once the comforting presence of other people and streets with the compacted red dirt was gone, the rules of the game shifted. This scared him.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Bloody—” A piercing cry came from ahead. They exchanged glances.

Red Bill.

That much was certain. Everything else would be seen when and if they reached the village. Emm motioned to hurry up. Straight to the source. Harvey armored himself with courage as if something like bravery was fluid, a subject to his whims.

In the next hundred heartbeats, they lessened the distance enough to recognize shapes. Hushed words reached Harvey and before he understood the meaning he found himself in the middle of chaos again. The deadly cats assaulted the hulking man – Red Bill – meanwhile Perkins was drawing the rhino away. Without thinking, the scout grabbed hunting knives and slashed at the backs of jaguars. The young man did it with a deathly silence and grace, and yet the big cats sensed his presence and reacted lightning fast. In his mind, he wondered, where Siddy had gone. That man disturbed Harvey with every passing moment.

“Bastards … bastards … bloody bastards.” Red Bill cut relentlessly in every direction. Impressive, how long he has lasted, though his left arms hung uselessly now, and there was certain lassitude in the bandit’s moves. No doubt his muscles must be exhausted, blood drained. Despite Harvey’s aversion to Red Bill, he could not deny the man his power of will.

Pain flared in Harvey’s calf. He screamed, but the sound came out high pitched and not his. He jumped forward wincing as pain exploded in his leg. A fluid shape rushed on the side. It momentarily melted with the bush, then two seconds later the jaguar shot straight at him. Flooded with adrenaline, Harvey ducked to his right, narrowly missing sharp claws. He didn’t look back, well knowing that the beast wheeled and readied for another charge. He held no weapon. But would that make any difference?

A guttural, blood-freezing roar filled the jungle. Harvey halted. Every sound stopped. Slowly, he turned his head to find Red Bill standing among the heaps of dead bodies. Near him, leaning against a protruding root, was Emm. Not a sign of living jaguars.

“Move!” Red Bill growled without a second glance; both bandits started running.

An amakor was upon them. It felt strange to be aware of such a beast stalking you. Red Bill had proved that jaguars could be killed, and you can escape from the rhino. But the amakor striped such illusions from its pray. Allowing only dismay and hopelessness.

“Do you know the way?” Harvey asked when he caught up with the men.

“Just run, conman,” Emm answered in between breaths.

They followed the rhino’s trail. The beast had not been gentle with the surroundings. They could not have run for long, but Harvey’s leg was in agony, and each stride threatened to be his last. No more guttural roars or jaguars or nothing at all. A peaceful jog in the middle of the night, in one of the deadliest places in the Empire.

Suddenly, Red Bill and Emm ducked to one side. Stunned, Harvey almost died as out of nowhere appeared the rhino. The massive beast was running … running from what? He could not comprehend what was capable of scarring the rhino. Another amakor? He almost gave then.

Then the first shouts came and flickers of fire among the trees appeared.

“Conman?” A soft question probed the air.

“Here.”

Not even the slightest rustle of dead leaves announced the scout.

“Siddy and Perkins purchased us some time. Come on, the rhino might run from the fire, but the amakor and other things won’t fear it” Other things. Yes, there was a legend of people who had brought an unveiled fire into the jungle and their terrible fate. Now, Harvey Logan was the last person to believe in myths and fairy tales, and that did little to stem the bludgeoning fear in his head.

Their rescue didn’t linger even a heartbeat after they turned the rhino away. The villagers began retreating with haste bordering on panic. Harvey hurried after them.