Kourosh, Glorious Kourosh!

In an hour, Kourosh and his fighters were climbing up the prison hill, with most of the tent city emptied out behind him. Kourosh himself, tall and muscular, wrapped in fine white cloth belted with jacquard, was in the lead of the grand procession. They left their appalons at the base of the hill, bedecked in silver halters and luxurious saddles. This wasn't a hunt; it was an ascension.

Kourosh and his people mounted the top of the hill and looked down into the pit where Darkmaw lay. Anyone could see the gargantuan scorpion had lost its powerful curse and wasn't moving. He said nothing yet but waited, smirking unbearably, while all the denizens of the tent city below gathered for his display. His men unspooled rope, anchored the ends to a series of stakes they drove into the ground, and tossed the free ends into the pit.

Kourosh spoke loud enough to be heard by everyone, while the ropes were being prepared. "You still haven't killed it, little girl? You've had days! Are you fighting it, or nursing it?" His hundred men jeered, only stopping when the maul raised his hand. "Stand aside, if you're afraid to finish it!"

Taylor matched his volume. "You should be afraid too, Maul Kourosh. If my people can't stand before it, then neither can yours. Any who enter the pit will die."

The maul threw a rock into the pit, which arched down for a few seconds, and then bounced off the hard carapace. The scorpion didn't move. "Looks harmless to me. I'm going to kill it, and end this threat to the gardens of Kravikas right now!" There was some cheering, mainly from his own fighters.

"Don't!" Taylor let his alarm show in his voice. "I'm in a battle of wills with her. She looks like she's sleeping but she's only biding her time, waiting for me to weaken. She has eaten a thousand men, yet you come to kill her with only a hundred. Even if you rush her with everything you have, she'll rouse before you can finish her. Just being in her presence will drain your strength. If you go down there, it will be the last thing you do."

In spite of their preparations, Maul Kourosh hesitated.

Taylor resorted to politeness. "Please, Kourosh, don't do this. Go back to whatever camp you just came from and leave this fight to the person who can win it." Kourosh looked willing to hit the much smaller disciple until Inez and the Tabuas shifted their weight behind him. He might be small, but some of his bodyguards were impressively large.

Taylor saw Kourosh make his fatal decision. If the boy was pleading, then he was afraid the maul might succeed. "I'm going down there. You'd better not get in my way."

Taylor backed away from the maul, taking all the Nexus personnel with him. He didn't want to be in their way, after all. Spectators arranged themselves around the pit, careful not to fall in. Amadis, Dagono's maul, made his way around and approached Taylor, who signaled to let him near.

"If he kills it, the victory will belong to him," warned Amadis. "Are you sure you don't want to go down too? Partial victory is better than having the whole stolen from you. I would go with you."

Taylor turned his back to on the maul, to keep an eye on Kourosh. "My battle of wills with her hasn't ended. If I stop now to fight physically, I'll have to start over later."

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"But Maul Kourosh …"

Taylor didn't trust himself not to give anything away if he said too much. "I will handle this. Don't do anything, Amadis."

All at once the Satoma maul and most of his warriors slid down the ropes, abseiling face-first and in a near free-fall, and only slowed their descent when they were nearly at the bottom. It took several seconds for them to hit the ground and prepare for their attack, yet some were already breathing hard. They began to collapse, a few at first, then a dozen at a time. Kourosh never reached his moment of glory: he fell over and died quietly in the pit. The watchers on the rim looked on in silence, not fully understanding what had just happened.

Most of the men he left on the surface mounted a rescue effort. They died just as pathetically as their fellows.

A group of thirty Satomen warriors, all that was left of his tribe, intuited Taylor was somehow to blame. They drew their weapons and tried to rush him but they were no match against his people. Ma'Tocha had command of them, and let the Satomen clash against the ready bulwarks. Not a single person was hurt, but the hunters' charge came to a sudden stop. As one, the Nexus force, disciples and bulwarks together, pushed. Instead of piercing the Satomen with spears or knives, every last attacker was shoved into the pit. They took three and a half seconds to hit the stony floor, with a pattering of gruesome fleshy breaking sounds. Some died from the fall. The rest died by suffocation.

"Spread the word, Amadis: Thus ends Satoma."

The maul stood at the pit's edge and looked down at all the figures that lay unmoving. "What did you do to them?"

"What I did was warn them." Taylor checked his filter, for what seemed the ten-thousandth time. "People should always heed my warnings, but they almost never do."

Amadis offered him reverence, but Taylor detected fear in the way his eyes were cast downward. Taylor liked the man, had enjoyed drinking with him and hearing his lore, and the idea that the gregarious maul now feared him … he knew there would be more of that, and soon.

The seeming mob of disciples and bulwarks organized themselves into neat cadres again, arrayed behind Taylor like an honor guard. There was another source of Taylor's upset, that his students had killed without compunction. That wasn't why he started a school for disciples. He wanted them to be builders, healers, and monster hunters. Not warfighters. But this world wasn't about to let them change it without a struggle.

Amadis turned to go, and Taylor felt an urge to call him back. But, to say what? "Hey, Amadis!" The older man paused and looked over his shoulder. "You're finally going to see what I can do. There's no more underestimating me after that."

His face was puzzled, but it cleared as he remembered their first conversation at Dagono's gate. "Ha! You and your little boasts! Drinks are at your place next time!" He waved, and marched on to where his garden stood, looking down at the dead Satomen, waiting to see if they would move again.

"Where is Harrence?" The filter was still set. The former farmer was brought before him, nervous. Taylor realized they hadn't been properly introduced, and offered him the Nexus greeting. "We haven't met properly, and that's my fault."

"It's not a problem, my lord. Eldest Brother." Instead of putting his hand over his heart, he wrung them both in front of him. "You have been occupied," his eyes skirted the pit and its horrid contents, "with things."

"It has been a strange week. An even stranger month for you, hasn't it? Has everyone been treating you okay?"

"People have been very welcoming. And, I feel less ridiculous in the eye makeup, with everyone else wearing it and all."

"It takes some getting used to." Taylor laughed. He checked the filter, and it was still in place. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you, but right now I need something from your girls. Can you have them look to the skies, as far south as they can, and tell me if there are any storm clouds?"

Harrence's answer was immediate. "There's a thunderhead about a hundred and twenty kilometers from here. They've been watching it for a while. It's … it's impressive."

"Ma'Tocha."

"Yes, Eldest Brother?"

"Take away this awning, and have everyone prepare to weather a storm. The Calique probably know, but pass the word anyway." She took the nervous farmer with her as she left. The poor guy was still badly out of his element.

"Finally," he said to no one in particular, "this is almost over."