The Captain

  Swan’s Crossing will burn. I repeated those four words multiple times as I rode through the night. My first command, after years of waiting - this was my moment to finally prove myself worthy. I commanded a squad of two-score riders; but only half of them were ordinary fighting men from the hills. The others were…different. Even with their stout helms on you could tell there was something wrong with them - skin too sallow, though not as much as an orc’s, and their gazes were highly unsettling to behold. What had been done to them?

  I frowned when I looked at the twisted ones, as I called them - they first appeared after that man in the black cloak showed up and lately I’d seen a great deal more of them. Ordinary people, usually captives caught during raids or slaves who had outlived their usefulness, “enhanced” by some sinister means. They were entirely loyal, but devoid of the humanity they once had.

  What’s worse is that they somehow reeked even worse than the dire boars they rode upon; those vicious, bloodthirsty hogs with four unusually sharp tusks and a fearsome temper - sometimes they’re called hell pigs but that name more properly belongs to a completely different creature that is neither a pig nor is it from any of the hells. I loathed the foul creatures; they lacked the finesse and beauty of my own steed.

  Misty snorted. The girl was excited to finally be let out into the open; she was quick, capable of sprinting at speeds to rival a jungle cat. Once again she’d managed to chew her way out of her holding pen and I found her gazing at the horizon from the ramparts. Of course I found her and told her how clever she was. I’d raised her from an egg and then once she was big enough I started training her to bear me in combat. Father never approved the way I doted upon her…and Misty doesn’t seem to like him much either.

  With the rising of the new day’s sun, the time had come. I took a moment to inspect Misty; good, her barding was secure, claws sharpened. I wasn’t going to let the man in the black cloak hurt her - he’d offered to make her stronger, but I refused. Raising my blade to his neck in Misty’s defense was worth the punishment I received. Misty is my only real friend.

  I looked into her yellow eyes and said, “If things go wrong, run. Go into the wilds.”

  She nuzzled me, concernedly. Whether she truly understood my words I didn’t know; I’d heard that her kind was smart, easily as intelligent as a median dragon if not more so. I got on her back; the town lay below us down by the river. We were arranged into two columns; five wide, four deep, with the twisted ones mixed in with the ordinary men. If anyone wished to escape it would be over that bridge but it mattered not; we were swift enough to cut them off and run them down. I climbed into the saddle, drew my sword, and the others readied their glaives.

  I took a deep breath and gave the order: “Charge!”

  My riders surged forth. The baying of pigs rose up in a discordant howling storm, mingling with the unholy warcries of the men. The right column maneuvered east to attack from the other side while I led the left column straight on. But then suddenly there was the roar of some tremendous beast and a bright flash of red before my eyes, a screeching accompanied by a cloud of dust. There was something like thunder, really close - my ears were ringing and…oh no.

  Misty was screeching loudly and thrashing about; by the time I realized what was going on, she had already sprinted several hundred feet and thrown me from her back. I hit the ground with a dull, painful thud that reverberated throughout my body and my armor. I heard Misty shriek, followed by the sound of ripping flesh. Why had she panicked so? The noise. Of course. She has really good hearing - she’s a predator after all - I could feel her presence above me. Run, Misty! Run! I tried to say, but all I did was cough. She was hell-bent on protecting me to the end.

  My vision was blurry. Misty had borne me far enough away where I could see the positions of both columns. Through the haze I saw a scene of pure chaos. That red blur I saw before appeared again - it was some sort of unusual chariot running circles around my column. I could hear the despairing cries of swine and soldier alike as the beasts began to attack each other, trampling or goring fallen riders. The last thing I saw before my vision faded completely to black was a tremendous fiery explosion that enveloped the entire left column.

  Fuck

  Rayna

  I brought my heavy blade down and severed the neck of a nearby boar, then swung wide left to disembowel another. Their wounds smouldered from the flames provided by Princess Sylfaena’s imbuement. These two had managed to break away from the chaotic mess that we’d created and bolted towards us as soon as we’d gotten out of the Cadillac. Unfortunately for them, they crossed paths with the Crimson Destroyer.

  Would it really be so bad?

  My new foes felled, I quickly turned around: I saw that the Cadillac had made a clean break and wasn’t being pursued. I sighed in relief. Once we’d exited the car Malcolm slid over to the driver’s seat and, at Victor’s command, sped off to the place where Princess Sylfaena was aiding the town’s defenders.

  I know that he’s no warrior.

  The four of us took up a formation and I surveyed the state of the battlefield; it was a blood tinged storm of tusks and steel. I counted five riders who’d managed to stay on their boars and gotten them under control - there were also four men running away in a panic, but three more still seemed to have fight in them. Victor brought out the weapon he called a Remington Bolt Action Rifle - three shots rang out, three boars fell dead and their riders were sent careening to the ground. This was the first time I’d seen him use the long weapon and I was more than impressed at how powerful it was; so, this is what he used to destroy the Mastermind.

  I know the traditions of my people.

  Those whom were dismounted by the deaths of their war pigs didn’t get back up, dead or stunned. That left two for me and Guy to deal with; I grinned, for this suited me perfectly. I readied myself to call upon the power of the dragonflame, to harness my inner rage and gain the strength of five men. The boars bore down on us and then time seemed to slow down for me; as it always did when I used my ancestral gifts.

  This can not, must not, develop into something deeper.

  I could feel the power of my muscles increase tremendously, the thickening of sinew, the way my armor tightened around my newly thickened torso was as familiar to me as a beloved pair of slippers. I leaped forward and caught one of the riders completely off-guard; I cleaved through his hip and cut deep into his steed’s back. Huh? This one seemed strange…but no matter. I was too busy fighting in a blind rage to pay it much heed.

  That is why I must restrain myself.

  The rider had stuck me with a weapon as I charged in, and I’d been gored, but I didn’t feel the pain. Nor did I feel it when Princess Illiana healed me - I knew only by the touch of her hand and the elvish incantation she made. Guy was standing beside me, taking the charge head on with his shield ready. I made a followup attack just to make sure my opponent didn’t get back up again. Something was unsettling about him, something unnatural.

  But there is a problem, one fact that threatens to chew through those restraints…

  Fire in my eyes, fire in my heart, I spun around to aid Guy; I attacked the hundredweight slab of bacon square in the haunch. How it squealed! The rider leaped off of his mount, using his glaive to vault himself behind the hog’s bleeding form. But before anything else could happen, Princess Illiana laid the rider low with a single casting of stone rifle. I put the poor beast out of its misery.

  …Malcolm makes me laugh.

  The last three raiders standing had dropped their glaives - shield and axe in hand they continued to approach. Guy brandished his arming sword at them.

  “Surrender!” He commanded. “Any who choose to cease fighting shall be shown such mercy as we can offer.” They didn’t even flinch, and kept coming. Guy shook his head and sighed, “So be it then.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Victor joined us on the front line with his shield and bowie knife at the ready. They were moving eerily across the field, unnaturally, with cold-blooded certainty. Did they simply not hear Guy? Did they not feel fear? Or could they not think for themselves? They didn’t look like undead, though, as they approached I did notice they seemed unnaturally pale. I heard Princess Illiana give a start.

  “Something’s wrong,” she cried, but we didn’t have time to ask her to elaborate for they were upon us.

  As I thought, they were tougher than the average fighting-man. I took a swing at mine - the sword found purchase, but the flames had no effect. That attack would have killed a normal man, but the pale warrior in front of me was still standing - I couldn’t tell if he even felt the pain. Gah, there was something unwholesome about this entire battle! In a final burst of anger I cut his head off, and that was the end of him. I sighed as my rage subsided; it had been too much, too quickly. Even the chimaera didn’t tire me out nearly to this degree.

  Exhausted though I was, I resolved to aid my friends - damn, I couldn’t raise my sword. The battleaxe of my fallen opponent, I decided, would aid me better. As quickly as I could I scooped it up and made a flanking attack against Guy’s foe - the axe bit into the abominable raider’s shoulder and got stuck there. Huh? What the hells? That didn’t matter, as the strike did distract the raider long enough for Guy to drive his arming sword through the space between his hauberk and helm.

  Victor and Princess Illiana, however, needed no help from me - their foe was already down and he had her in the princess carry.

  “Sir Victor, move me closer to Rayna - she’s got an injury.”

  I looked down and realized that I had, indeed, taken another wound. Blast, right through the gambeson; I’ll need to have that repaired. Victor put down Princess Illiana right next to me, and she started to heal me. Though I’d stopped bleeding and the wound had vanished, I was still tired. Ah, the Cadillac was coming back our way, good.

  Malcolm stopped and said, “Sylfie has everything well-in hand, so she bade me return to aid you.”

  Victor said, “What do you mean?”

  Malcolm laughed. “Oh, I think t’would be much more fun to just show you.”

  I smiled a little. I agreed. But there was still work to do here. The chaos seemed to have died down for the most part - what was left was to check for survivors we could take prisoner, and put the warpigs down. Dire boars are bad enough in the wilds, without the added combat training and conditioning turning them into murder machines. It wouldn’t do to let them escape - just one could cause a lot of mayhem. Once the boars were all deal with, Princess Illiana concentrated, and after a moment she shook her head.

  “None.” She said, ruefully. “Fifteen men fell here, all are deceased…”

  Victor nodded, “All right. Let’s get in the car and round up any of the ones who fled.”

  I said, “I saw four men running off on foot.”

  Princess Illiana said, with a gasp as though she’d just remembered something, “Right! Sir Victor, when I was firing your Colt at the raiders I saw that one of them wasn’t like the others - this one was clad fully in plate armor and wasn’t riding a boar. The creature panicked and bolted in…um…that way!” She pointed east, away from the river.

  Victor said, “I thought I’d heard some kind of shriek, so that’s what it was. Good eye - I reckon that might have been the leader; all right, let’s prioritize that. If the others get away, so be it - but first we should grab Sylfie.”

  The five of us piled into the Cadillac and roared away towards the town. Sure enough, the fighting here had also ended. There was a pile of dire boars that some townspeople were already beginning to field dress. Some had been stuck with pikes, which Princess Illiana had created with her nature magic and distributed to the newly formed militia, while others had succumbed to a deadly collision with a pit trap - also courtesy of her highness, by way of her earth magic.

  Princess Sylfaena was looking smugly as various people were cheering and offering praise. There were three humans on their knees; their hands were bound behind them with hemp rope. I saw that they were tall, sturdily built, with braids in their hair. Victor and Princess Illiana crossed their arms.

  “All right, Sylfie,” said Victor, “What happened?”

  With a hand to her sternum, Princess Sylfaena said “I eliminated six of them with my fireball, then ten of them slammed into Illiana’s trench. I was in the middle of preparing a ray of fire when four riders managed to get over the line. I took aim and unleashed my spell, which somehow had no effect on the rider whatsoever; thankfully, that’s when the pikemen struck and skewered rider and steed both. At that point, the other three surrendered.”

  Malcolm took a bow, “Which is precisely when I showed up! Oh you should have seen it - oh wait, you can!”

  Victor said, “My smartphone! It was charging in the car! Are you saying you-”

  Malcolm nodded and brought out Victor’s device and fiddled with it - ah, yes, I’d heard of this function. It can capture moments in time, including the world in motion. I saw it - three burly, grown men who had just moments before been charging into battle on the backs of dire boars, prostrate before a woman half their size and begging for their lives. The look on Princess Sylfaena’s face was also priceless.

  Victor said, “Well there’s one for Bob Saget.”

  Princess Sylfaena’s face turned serious. “There is something we need to discuss - it involves some of the foes we faced today.”

  I had a pretty good idea of what she meant, and it seemed that both Victor and Princess Illiana agreed; and so it was that the six of us went to go look for the presumed leader. It didn’t actually take us long to find what we were looking for. A hundred yards more or less away from the battle site was a small hillock. There, lying in a heap, was a person wearing battered black armor. Princess Illiana confirmed that the person was still alive, barely - but whoever he was, he wasn’t alone.

  Looming over the fallen raider was a two-legged reptile with pebble-like scales - dark gray on the underbelly, coal black on top - some twenty feet long and six feet tall at the hip. It had three clawed fingers and three toes - one of which featured a large razor-sharp sickle-shaped claw.

  “Primal beast,” I said.

  “A Dreadrunner, Black Reaper, specifically,” said Malcolm

  Victor said, reverently, taking his hat off, “A raptor. An honest to God raptor. If that don’t beat all.”

  Malcolm groaned, “You are far too excited to be in the presence of one of nature’s most deadly predators.”

  “I think it’s cute,” said Princess Illiana.

  Do you mean the animal, or Victor’s reaction? Both? Both.

  The “raptor” as Victor called it twitched its head towards us, bird-like in its aspect but without any sort of plumage to prettify it. That made the creature all the more unsettling, alien even. It mostly stood still, staring, only occasionally moving in a jerky manner, with its mouth gaping wide open revealing sharp pointy teeth. It also didn’t blink. At all.

  “Sir Victor, I can sense the armored person’s life force weakening - I need to get close but the primal beast…”

  Victor nodded, and whispered. “Let me handle this.”

  “Careful, old boy,” Said Malcolm. “Primal beasts such as this have some of the best and worst aspects of mammals, reptiles, and birds - they defy classification with their superlative oddness. Dreadrunners are especially unpredictable. There’s no telling how she’ll react when you approach.”

  Huh? “How do you know it’s a girl?” I asked.

  Malcolm said, “The lack of a crest for one thing, plus female Black Reapers are known to be larger, bulkier than the males.”

  I nodded and smiled; damn it, that’s another thing I like about him, all of the interesting knowledge he displays with such enthusiasm.

  Victor unslung his rifle and removed his duster coat. Then he started a slow, measured approach. The Dreadrunner snapped and snarled, taking a defensive posture - ready to pounce.

  “Easy, easy!” Said Victor. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you…” After a moment’s pause he said, “Ah! I get it. You’re protecting your friend, aren’t you? I get it. I understand. We want to help ‘em too.”

  Without another word Victor got out his bowie knife and stabbed himself in the bicep, to everyone’s shock. “Look,” he said, “See? Watch…” he presented the wound to the Dreadrunner. “Healer. I have a healer.”

  Princess Illiana gave a gasp of realization and began to administer healing to Victor’s arm. Victor took Princess Illiana’s hand, still surging with magical energy, and pointed to the fallen warrior. The Dreadrunner’s eyes followed them as they motioned.

  “That’s right, you can figure this out - you’re not just some beast. You’re a good girl.. A clever girl.”

  At this, the Dreadrunner’s eyes widened, then she bowed her head and whimpered, turning her snout to face the unconscious person. Victor reached out his hand. The huge reptile stepped forward. I feared that she would snap Victor’s hand off, but instead she ducked under it - and allowed herself to be petted. Huh? Everyone’s jaw dropped, save for Princess Illiana who seized the opportunity to start the healing process.

  “That’s right, it’s been a hard day hasn’t it? All of that noise must have been scary, and then your friend fell off your back.” Victor said, softly. “You hungry? I got some jerky…”

  Victor brought out some dried meat and presented it to the Dreadrunner - it sniffed a moment, then gave a snort of contempt and snapped its head from side to side. It took a great leap away, turned to face us, gave a cry, and sped off towards a nearby forest. Was she trusting us to care for her master? Princess Illiana breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I was just in the nick of time,” she said. “The danger has passed, this person should be safe enough to move now.”

  Normally it would fall to me, the task of carrying someone, but after that expenditure of energy I needed some measure of rest. Guy and Victor each took an arm and hoisted up the fallen captain. They lost their footing and stumbled a little, which jostled the body just enough that the helmet fell off. Long locks of black hair fell out, and a fair face was revealed. Of all the surprising things I’d discovered today, I was expecting this the least:

  The captain of the raiders was a woman.