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Fang of the Gods [COMPLETED]
Important Encounters

Important Encounters

Hallek

“What is this?” Hallek asked as they climbed into the cart. “The fourth day? Fifth?”

“Morning of the fifth I think,” Shylldra said. “No sign of anybody behind us still?”

“Not that I can tell,” Hallek shrugged. “But I'm no scout. Come on, let's get going. Tivik's only a few days away.”

“Yeah,” Shylldra said.

“Any idea what's going to happen once you get there?”

“Uhm...no. Maia told me I'd find what I needed on the road...”

“I still have trouble believing you spoke to her,” Hallek shook his head. “I mean you hear about it happening, but you don't usually meet the people it happened to.”

“Tellings are very rare and special. I just have to figure out what she meant. She didn't need to tell me I was too weak though. I know that. What was all that about the power that destroyed Lost Pangea though? And a genius madman and wonders and...I dunno. It did seem like she was saying there's a shot at a happy ending. If I can figure out what I'm supposed to do.”

“That's all way above me,” Hallek shook his head. In fact it almost felt unreal. Gods? Visions? Even corrupt emperors seemed far fetched. Shylldra had told him the full story on the second day, and he'd let it wash over him like water over a stone. “But I've been glad to travel with you.”

“Me too. I mean, I've been glad to travel with you. You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Hallek laughed. “I wonder if...”

A bellowing trumpet blast erupted from the forest ahead, along with the sound of cracking wood. Shadows flitted through the trees all around them. Hallek pulled his sword, scanning the treeline for danger.

“What is it?”

“Dunno,” Hallek said. “I've never been this far from the city.”

An arrow slammed into the cart between them. Shylldra screamed and raised her staff in front of her. The next two arrows bounced off an invisible barrier in the air.

“Prayer of Maia's Protection,” Hallek said, eyes wide with wonder. Maia's own power channeled through her acolyte and the infusions in the staff. Everyone knew Maia's priesthood was given certain powers, but he'd never actually seen it.

“I never did it for real before,” Shylldra said numbly. “I didn't even do it on purpose!”

Before they had time to adjust a woman burst out of the trees followed by a...thing. It was like a human, but shorter with long skinny limbs and fur covering everything but the leathery skin on the palms of its hands and its muzzled face. It was followed by another. Both of the things wore loincloths and carried clubs.

Ape people, Hallek thought. The Almost-men. It's a day for firsts, isn't it?

The things made ugly hoots and snarls as they approached the woman and the cart. Hallek instinctively drew his sword and ran to her aid. At the last second she whirled around, two carved bone daggers in her hand, and they met the ape-men's attack together. The creatures hooted in fear and bolted back into the forest.

“Thank you,” the woman said, tucking her daggers away in her belt.

“You're welcome. What about the archers?”

“Ran too probably,” the woman shrugged. “They weren't expecting any more opposition. And they don't like surprises. In fact by themselves they're awful cowards.”.

“Are you alright?” Shylldra asked from the cart. “Both of you? Either of you?”

“I'm okay,” Hallek assured her, then turned to the new woman. Looking at her now with time to think she was obviously one of the Scarred Men. Women. Whatever, a member of the forest tribes. She was also kind of distracting. Her tight, toned, athletic body was covered only by a cloth wrap over her small chest and a loose leather skirt that went halfway down her thighs. Her hair was cut close to her head except for a longer swoop that went over her eye on one side. Tattoos ran up and down her arms and legs, spiraling around a single huge symbol on her back. “You? I don't even know you're name.”

“I'm fine. And it's Dyryl of Birdfang, Daughter of Maukra. You look like you can handle that sword. And that was Maia's blessing I just saw, wasn't it? I could still use both your help.”

“With what?” Shylldra asked.

“My brother. He wasn't smart enough to run. Well, they're coming this way as it is.”

Another bellow broke the air and it burst through the trees. Twenty feet long and fifteen feet tall, covered in leathery gray hide with a few even patches of short, bristly fur. A long, thick neck jutted up from powerfully muscled shoulders. Its legs were long and thick as well but the feet were almost dainty, as if the creature walked along on tip toes. And it did, darting nimbly through the palms despite it's massive size. The head was a huge oval with trumpet-like ears at the back, just over beady black eyes, and the tip of the snout was a wrinkled bag of flesh that twitched and moved fluidly, like the squashed trunk of a mammoth.

“Indricotherium!” Shylldra said in awe. “Huma's mightiest child.”

Hallek had seen many dinosaurs in the arena that were bigger than the gray skinned beast wandering out of the trees. But he'd seen them all from afar and above, from the seats in the arena. This creature was feet away, towering over him. And far beyond that was the immense feeling of force, of divine strength given form. It exuded a power theway they said the Fangs did in the flesh. Dinosaurs were larger but this was the greatest mammal to ever walk upon the world, born from Huma's ankle. This creature was special.

The ape men burst from the trees after it, hooting and snarling and swinging at it with their clubs of bone. One or two of them waved stolen swords at the creature, and at the human who poured out of the trees among them. He was tall and muscular, his body covered with tattoos and scars. He bellowed a challenge to the crowd of ape men around him, despite the bleeding wounds all over his body. The huge bearded man carried a single massive sword, infusion runes glowing as he called on the weapons power. His face, arms, and chest were covered in scars like writhing snakes.

“Come and take me you animals!” the huge man bellowed. Before he knew what was happening Hallek was running into the fray Dyryl beside him. Her daggers flashed, felling ape men. Hallek's sword caught one in the neck and it went down gargling blood. He shivered. He'd never killed anything close to human before, and that's exactly what the almost-men were...close to human. The tales argued about where they came from but none of the stories were any good. He fought down the vomit that threatened to come to his throat and waded into the fray.

There were just too many of them. He knocked one club aside only to find another swinging towards his face but it turned aside at the last second. He cut open its belly and caught Shylldra from the corner of his eye, sweat beading on her brow as she chanted prayers. He gave a thanks to her for calling Maia's protection and turned back to the fight. Smoke streamed from a point on the big tribesman’sarm as he hewed ape men right and left.

The indricotherium kicked out, sending ape men flying into the trees and turning them into sacks of shattered bones. Finally the crowd thinned and with one last bellow the indricotherium reared into the air and brought its front legs crashing down on the ape men, splattering them everywhere. And that was enough for the rest of the band. With hooting screams they vanished into the trees. Blood and phlegm sprayed from the massive animal's mouth as it bellowed its victory across the forest.

Then it slumped down to one knee.

It tried to stand up again, but all it managed to do was weave like a drunken man, climbing half up to one leg before swaying to the side and collapsing to the ground. Blood seemed from the wounds in its side as it kicked feebly, round black rolling in its head. Hallek approached it carefully between its front legs and it's chin, kneeling beside it and putting one hand on the neck. The skin was rough and warm, and he could feel veins throbbing beneath the surface. Slowing. Dying. Shylldra knelt down beside him, running her own hand along the creature's neck.

“Can you help it?” Hallek asked.

“I don't think a master healer could,” Shylldra shook her head. “Maia's blessing doesn't heal the body. But it can calm the soul, and dull the pain. I'll do that much for it.”

It took an hour for the indricotherium to die but it went quietly peacefully asleep. Tears pricked the edges of Hallek's eyes when it was gone. It was too ugly an end for something so beautiful.

“I am Norak of Birdfang,” the big man said after they'd stood in silence for a while. “Son of Yorix. Thank you, city man, for coming to my aid.”

“We didn't have much choice,” Hallek said. “Besides watching them torture it was...wrong. How did you get mixed up in it?”

“They chased it right over us when we stopped to rest,” Dyryl said.

“But that's weird isn't it?” Shylldra said. “Ape men usually don't come this close to the roads.”

“Haven't you noticed?” Dyryl said. “Maybe not, if you're from the city. There's something wrong in the forest. Something's out of place. Everything that lives here's been acting weird lately. The eoraptors are acting scared. The flying creatures are huddling together on tress when normally they won't tolerate each other's presence. And right here, a bunch of weaker type ape men taking on an indricotherium? Without a chieftain leading them?”

“Types?” Hallek asked.

“Three types,” Shylldra said. “These were all australopithecus, the weakest kind.”

“But the meanest,” Dyryl said. “Still they're all cowards.”

“Paranthropus are a little stronger, but less violent,” Shylldra said. “And gigantopithecus. The chieftains. People don't see them much.”

“And good thing,” Dyryl said. “I saw one once, from a distance. They're horrifying. But if they'd had one along I could see them attacking an indricotherium. Alone they wouldn't have the guts.”

“It was wounded and weak when they found it,” Norak said. “It is calving season. Indricotherum live alone, yes. But in mating season they find their mate and stay through calving season, until the child is strong enough to live on its own. There's no way a magnificent bull like this couldn't attract a female. He was with a mate and a calf, and all three were attacked. He fought the predator to his own death...but not the predator’s.Else it would have been going away from the road to the deep forest, not towards it. It lost the battle and was trying to lead the attacker away from the calf. Then the ape men saw it and were hoping for an easy kill.”

“It could have just been leading the ape men away,” Dyryl pointed out.

“A bull and his mate unable to chase away ape man rabble?” Norak snorted. “Never. And if all of that isn't enough, look at the wounds. Lookat them!”

Hallek did. They were ugly things, deep sucking holes and horrible tears in the skin going all the way up the enormous creature's side. But now that Norak mentioned it there was something about them, a pattern...and then he saw it.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“It's a bite!” he couldn't stop himself from blurting out. “It's one bite!”

“Yes!” Norak laughed. “Our mighty friend here was felled by a single bite! Delivered from above. The holes are tighter near the belly, that's where the end of the attacker’s snout must have been. And what could possibly be so large and so powerful as to give an indricotherium bull a mortal wound with one bite from above?”

Norak didn't wait for an answer, just swung towards the forest like it was an invading army he was hoping to cow into submission.

“It's here!” the barbarian bellowed. “One of the Fangs now rules this forest! And I will have its blood and soul for my own!”

Verris

“Something stinks,” Gargez val Patricius said, theatrically sniffing the air. “Something stinks in here like dung.”

The nearest cluster of young nobles twittered dutifully, glancing at each other with sparkling eyes. He'd made the exact same joke ten or eleven times now to the delight and wonder of his guests, or at least the best they could manage to keep in good with their host and his father. After all, Gargez was the son of a member of the Patrician's Council and he'd shown a talent for pure vindictiveness and creative spite that was downright alarming in someone who'd only just turned seventeen.

Gargez even lookedpowerful. Yes he was fat, but his arms and shoulders bulged and rippled with power. He had the dark caramel skin of an Angelarian native but his Mother had been a northerner, his father's second concubine, and her blonde hair and blue eyes had passed down to him giving him an exotic, belligerent look. That combined with his quick temper helped him rise quickly to prominence as alpha of the palace bully pack. Patrician Jajess was at least as powerful as Patrician Vyonus, Gargez's father, but word was Jajess wasn't interested in protecting his son. The only problem was that Verris hadn't reacted to the insults. Once. For some like Gargez this was beyond infuriating.

“Do you think it smells like dung?” he snarled. “Peasant?”

Verris just rolled his eyes and sipped from a jeweled drinking bowl.

“Hey!” Gargez demanded, storming over. “I asked you a question, peasant! Do you think it smells like dung here, Downwind?”

“Not until you walked over here,” Verris said dryly.

There was the tiniest, and briefest, twitter from the assembled nobles. Gargez turned purple, and Verris had to hide a smirk. This was a battle after all. A few short days ago he'd have risen to the bait. But Ballum had been teaching him. Hate and anger were weapons. And you never drew a weapon until you were ready to use it. Make a list of the enemies you cannot yet kill, Ballum told him. It is much more satisfying to see the list grow short than to go wild when it won't do any good.

“I don't want you at my feast!” Gargez snarled. “You'll make the food taste like dung!”

“Alright, then I'll leave now.”

“And insult my table?” Gargez gasped. Could it be the jumped up peasant didn't know the rules of simple decorum?

“Alright,” Verris sighed. “I'll stay.”

Theoretically, this was Verris's val Patricius's party. As the newly legitimized son of a patrician it was tradition for some other patrician to hold a party. But no one was under the delusion it was anything more than pretense. Noble parties were places to do business, and the real reason Vyonus had chosen to host was to let the young nobles reestablish the pecking order, preferablywith his son at the top and the new upstart at the bottom. Unfortunately, Verris refused to humiliate.

“So you're a coward? Too weak to accept a challenge?”

“You didn't challenge me. You just insulted me, and did a pretty pathetic job at it for that matter. What's that, I'm from Downwind? Sweet gods, I never knew. I suggest coming back later with some fresh material.”

Gargez looked about to pop. Some of the young nobles behind him were actively smirking now. One in particular...no, not a noble,right? Some rich merchant's daughter. Mai Councillens. Meaning her father was rich enough to convince enough other rich people to vote him onto the council without being nobility. Fylati, that was her name. She was tall and willowy, her thin dress clinging in all the right places to remind Verris that a skinny body could be just as enticing as a voluptuous one...

“What are you smiling at, dung shoveler?” Gargez snarled, trying to follow Verris's gaze.

“You have a lovely garden. I was just taking in the view.”

It was a lovely garden. It featured exotic plants from around the world arranged by someone with taste, probably one of the Vyonus family servants, around statues of mighty dinosaurs and ancient heroes. But the main attraction was the pets, three Nomingia from the distant east. The dinosaurs were six feet tall and almost entirely covered in beautiful feathers. One was an intense ruby red, another a deep forest green, the third a vibrant turquoise. Stripes of yellow ran down along their flanks. The tops of their heads were a curved bony crest as brilliantly colored as their feathers that swooped down into their beak. Their feet were bare and scaly from the top of their backwards curving knee to where their talons reached the floor, and their hands were bare at the end of an impressive sleeve of flaring feathers that could almost have looked like a wing.

But the tail was why anyone bothered to drag a Nomingia across the continents to Angelar. Near the end the feathered tail suddenly flared out into a spray of feathers as large as a man's torso, patterned so dazzlingly it was hard to credit nature producing the swirls and lines and patterns of dots. The dinosaurs seemed as proud of their tails as their owners were, stalking around and proudly raising the tails and waving them for all to see. He couldn't help but notice that a lot of the time when they raised those brilliant tails they used the distraction to deposit sticky white dung more like tar than feces. Best tool for that on stone would be number 3 shovel with scraper, on grass till it into the dirt and plant new seed. On wood you'd probably have to replace the board.

No matter how far he got from Downwind a lifetime of training and experience wasn't going to just go away.

He kind of wished Gargez would give him an excuse. Just one excuse. He'd endured the petty taunts of the great and good—or at least of the brats of the great and good—for days now and he would love to feed a few of them their words. But Gargez had apparently had enough. He shrugged and wandered off into the garden.

The party dragged on. The day was hot, the food was terrible—Gargex would probably say he lacked refined taste, Verris would say his chef lacked thumbs—unless they'd ended up in the food that is—and the company downright teeth grinding. He looked for refuge in the hedge maze. It wasn't much of one, but no one else was in there. Or at least he thought no one was until he heard a very feminine whimper and what had to be Gargez laughing.

Oh wonderful. I've stumbled into the git’s rutting spot. Curious what poor woman was selling herself to Gargez's attentions for the slight chance he might remember her name, Verris peeked around the corner.

Fylati mai Counciliens lay on the ground. Her dress was torn and her eyes were full of tears. Gargez had the hem of his toga tucked into his belt to let his stubby cock dangle free in front of him. Giddiness bubbled up in Verris's chest. What a glorious, perfect moment. An opportunity he couldn't have ever even begged for. A cliché out of every melodrama, it was too wonderful. He stepped out of the bushes and tried not to grin. He couldn't admit he was happy about the situation after all. Not in front of the witness anyway.

“Stop it,” Verris said, trying to imitate the flat, menacing tone Ballum used on people when he didn't care if he had to kill them or not. He didn't think he quite made it but it was enough to get Gargez and his intended victim looking in Verris's direction.

“What do you want?” Gargez sneered.

An excuse to beat the crap out of you, Verris thought. Thank you. Now if I just knew what heroes were supposed to say at times like this.

“I don't think she's interested. Why not go try it with one of your nomingia? They're not as good looking as the mai Councilens here, but they're prettier than the minmi you're probably used to...”

He resorted to nastiness, his old and trusted standby. Fylati took advantage of the distraction to run. Not, Verris noticed, away. Just far enough to watch from behind the bushes.

“Listen you Upwnwind dung shoveler. I'll do what I want on my property.”

“I don't think she's your property.”

“Give me a minute, my family could buy and sell hers. And you're just a jumped up bastard. Get out of here before I decide to hurt you.”

Verris started to feel a little stage fright. He wondered what Hallek would say, and the thought of the sanctimonious little prick’s face was enough to send him flying at Gargez. Fist met face with a satisfying crunch and sent Gargez through the side of the hedge maze, out into the party. The guests crowded around this newfound entertainment as Verris walked stood over Gargez rolling on the ground, clutching his bleeding nose.

“Oh I'm sorry,” Verris said, flexing his fingers theatrically. “Is that the kind of thing I shouldn't do? To avoid getting hurt?”

“You jumped up little...” Gargez began.

“You need new insults,” Verris sighed.

“I will kill you!” Gargez roared, clambering to his feet. “You come into my home, you assault me, you...”

“What about her?” Verris said, pointing to Fylati. She was openly watching now through the hole in the hedge maze. “You invited her to your home and then you dragged her into the bushes to grope her.”

“She wanted it,” Gargez snorted.

“And I say you're a rapist,” Verris spat back. “Now admit it or I'll just go back to pounding you.”

“You think you're going to get another cheap shot on me!? I'll tear you apart and feed you to my new pets!”

The result was not as threatening as Gargez was hoping for. Lines like that work best when they “new pets” in question are threatening predators, or at least a swarm of smaller, more vicious animals, as opposed to brightly feathered, calm tempered, and largely harmless creatures who feed on eggs, shellfish, and small rodents and might consume a defeated enemy if he were cut up very small. But the murder in Gargez's eyes was real, so one of his flunkies ran forwards in a desperate and futile attempt to defuse the situation.

“Gargez!” the flunky said. “Gargez, please. He's insulted your honor, but think of the dishonor if you killed a guest at your home outside of a duel!”

Gargez nodded slowly, though he still looked daggers at Verris.

“Yes. Yes you're right. We have proper ways of doing things around here, Upwind.”

“I'm sorry,” Verris sneered. “I didn't know the proper etiquette for groping your guests. That must have been why you looked so lost. I just thought you'd never touched a woman's body before.”

“Are you trying to get me to kill you?” Gargez roared. “Over some slut who begged for it in the first place?”

“That's a lie!” Fylati finally shouted, clutching her dress around her. It wasn't torn, but grubby marks all over it could only be handprints. “I was just sitting back there, and you came...”

“You're the one who's lying!” Gargez snapped.

Gargez was starting to irritate Verris for reasons he couldn't quite place. He thought of Hallek again, at the insults they'd hurled at each other over the decades. They'd hated each other and yet...

“I knew a man in Downwind. He was a lazy, self-righteous prick. And he always called me a vicious, conniving little weasel. We hated each other all our lives. When I left I was glad to be rid of him. But at least he always had the guts to punch me back, you fat blustering coward.”

Verris found himself in an unfamiliar position. Not starting a fight, he'd done that often enough. And there was a crowd all around watching, like usual. Except it had never occurred to him that he'd respectedHallek, at least as an enemy, until he stood there facing Gargez feeling nothing but contempt. And even more unusual, the gathered crowd was actually on his side. He could feel it all around him, see it in the cautiously hopeful faces. Was there a chance, just a chance, that someone could finally knock Gargez down a peg?

This is fun,he thought still fighting to keep the grin off his face.

“Alright” Gargez roared. “A duel! Bring our weapons!”

Most young nobles were expected to carry weapons, but they'd been confiscated at the entrance to the party. Now servants hurriedly brought them out, a long thin sword of allosaurus bone for Gargez and a blade of some dull gray bone for Verris. The inscription on it was carved with odd, foreign runes. Garges eyed the sword, but said nothing. Once they were both armed the noble charged. Verris was pretty sure there was supposed to be more ceremony than that, but he also didn't particularly care. He raised his sword and met Gargez's first few blows.

Pathetic.

Verris had been training with Ballum. Before that he'd sparred (or just fought) Hallek at least once a week. Either one of them could have crushed Gargez and his “fancy” swordplay into powder. Gargez had no style, no depth, nothing but brute ugly force. So Verris had no problem parrying the first strike. Or the second, or the third. The crowd watched in awe as Verris parried strike after strike. Finally, when there was a pause in the action, Verris threw his sword away. It was a Kuraga blade, a sword full of hate. When combined with a skilled wielders hatred it could match some of the most powerful infusions in the world.

Using it on Gargez would be a waste.

Gargez must have thought he'd knocked the sword out of Verris's hands, because he pressed the attack. Verris dodged it with a step to the side and slapped him in the face. Gargez roared in fury and confusion as Verris plucked his allosaurus sword away and tossed it into the grass. The noble tried to grapple him but Verris punched him in the gut and he made a noise like air leaking out of an inflated bladder. Gargeze coughed, stumbled, and fell to his knees vomiting all over the grass. Verris kicked him in the side so hared he flipped over on his back.

“Do you concede?” Verris asked, standing over Gargez.

“I-I do...” Gargez choked.

“Sorry,” Verris said. “I can't hear you.” He reached down and grabbed Garge by the hair, flipping him on his stomach and dragging him over to one of the sticky white piles of nomingia dung.

“No,” Gargez begged. “No, don't I'll give you...”

Verris slammed his face into the sticky dung and kicked him one more time for good measure. With that accomplished, he turned back to the crowd. They cheered.

Hate makes us strong, Verris thought. I just thought he meant my hate. But no. I can use other people's hate, too. I can be as cruel and vicious as a want as long as I find the most hated target. It was a powerful revelation. He'd have to tell Ballum later. He felt like he'd come a step closer to becoming Kuraga.

And I have to let them think I give a crap about whatever they hate him for,Verris thought. That's important too, I think.

“Thank you!” Fyati said, running up and hugging him. That was another unfamiliar experience. It wasn't that Verris had no experience with women they'd just always been similarly jaded types who rarely felt grateful for anything. He'd never been grabbed by a grateful damsel in distress and he had no idea how to react. He accidentally stumbled across honesty.

“I just wanted an excuse to beat the crap out of him. You were handy.”

“I don't care,” she said. She was so much shorter than him that even grabbing onto his side she had to look up into his face. Up close, Verris suddenly realized that under the bangs she used to hide herself she was startlingly beautiful. That would have been true even if her emerald green eyes weren't brimming with his new favorite emotion. “I don't care why you did it. He's been pawing me at ever party for months. He bullies my brother around all the time. I only wish you'd killed him!”

That was all she'd had time to say before the crowd closed in on them, but Verris was already remembering Ballum.

A Kuraga is at his best when he does his own killing.