Part 28
Moonlight Against the Setting Sun
“We have to help him,” the girl said.
“He said not to interfere,” Sworder countered.
Grota stood motionless, having brought his arm back to his side; not moving to help. His Master however was hard pressed by the creature’s onslaught. Just then the single beam of moonlight filtered through the cloudy sky down upon the combatants. In the added light of the moon, the mystery of the monster seemed to fade if only a little, for now all could see the creature the Trapper now faced.
The monster resembled a large canine, yet he stood upon his back bowed legs, almost as a man. The arms of the creature contorted and writhed sporadically yet with clear intent. Each of his arms were decorated with massive claws which also bore a canine appearance. The pale moonlight glimmered off its fangs, which filled its large narrow mouth. Its jaw hung low, almost as if dislocated, and his growls seemed to tear into the skin of all those who heard it.
The Trapper cried out as the creature’s claws racked across his shoulder, tearing through his armor. Blood flowed profusely from the wound as the Trapper countered by bashing the creature’s head with his shield.
“It’s different now,” the girl pleaded. “He can’t face this alone.”
“I do not know what he is planning,” Sworder said.
The Trapper was thrown back as the claws of the creature dug deep grooves onto the wood of his shield. The creature gave him no time to rest and lunged forward. The Trapper raised his shield to defend himself from its claws, but instead of striking, the creature tackled him to the ground. It sank its long teeth into his arm biting straight through the bracer, coating its jaws in fresh blood.
“If you won’t go then I will,” the girl said, attempting to pull herself up by the windowsill.
“You can’t,” the Elder said as his grandson held her back. “That Shade Beast is what we call a Werewolf. There can be no doubt now. It would tear you apart in its desire for fresh meat.”
“But do you not see; that is what will happen to him?” the girl pleaded. Then grabbing Sworder’s hands she forced him to look her in the eyes.
“Sworder,” she continued, “If he dies who will guide us to the mountains. We will be stuck here and with this thing attacking every night. Would I be safe then?”
“She could order him,” Namic said.
“But she does not want to,” Ranin said.
Sworder slowly rose, and laying one hand on the window, he quickly cleared it entering the arena. The watchers viewed silently as he moved forward, but he did not attack the Werewolf, nor stage. Unsheathing his sword he threw it towards Grota giving a loud cry.
“Here, guide. Take this.”
The Trapper was pinned but still saw and heard the gesture. Raising his own voice called out to Grota, “Take that blade, and get over here.”
The moment the sword came within arms length of Grota, it snatched it out of the air. In the grip of the Kazan the blade turned to ash and blew away. Then he staged. The Werewolf flinched away at the light, which for an instant shone like the dawn. Emerging from the set sun was a steel clad figure, lean but strong, bearing a naked blade in its gauntlets. Charging the Werewolf, the Kazan sliced it with its sword even as it rammed its shoulder into the beast.
“Is that Grota?” the girl said, shocked.
“You would be correct,” the Elder said.
“It is quite a change,” Ranin said.
“Will it be enough?” Namic asked, ominously.
The Trapper rolled free as the Werewolf reared from the steel clad Grota’s attack. However, the beast did not falter. Falling upon Grota, it began tearing at his defenses.
The Trapper rammed the Werewolf with his shield, but this only hindered the beast slightly and in response it struck the Trapper knocking his shield to the side and racked its claws across his chest once more, lacerating the skin.
Grota redoubled its attacks but the Trapper suddenly bolted away towards the edge of the village.
“Is he mad?” Ranin asked.
“I think not,” Namic said. “Whatever he has planned, something does not want him to reach it.”
Ghostly figures harassed the Trapper as he ran to his unknown goal. When quite suddenly, where he ran was plunged into complete darkness.
“I can’t see from here!” Ranin said.
“Quite interesting,” was Namic’s only comment.
Peering in, they watch the Trapper engulfed in a raging sea. He was surrounded by the emptiest of blacknesses and he held his eyes shut as they were useless in his circumstance.
Battling against the current he moved on. Swimming with increased haste as he frantically and single mindedly moved forward. Whether by luck or experience, he moved straight, not deviating from his path. Reaching the edge of darkness he emerged running at a sprinters pace no longer conscious of his surroundings, focusing only on his goal.
Producing a torch from his kit, he lit it on one of the still lit torches lining the exterior of the village. He hurled it at the two fighting Kazan’s with a cry.
“Grota!” the Trapper said. “I hand this to you too.” And then the ground swallowed him.
The torch covered the distance the Trapper had run and Grota paused his fight to snatch the flaming torch. The Werewolf, though, did not pause and in that moment tore off Grota’s left arm.
The girl gasped and the granddaughter shrieked as she buried her face in her brother’s back.
The torch quickly faded to ash leaving just the flame behind. Then it, too, faded. The Werewolf continued its assault but the attacks never landed. Grota staged, and the Werewolf roared in fright. For, emerging was a bright blade, which, gleaming like the setting sun, struck the Werewolf, tearing through its shoulder.
There, Grota in bright armor, stood, in one arm a long blade and the other a glowing shield, the sun painted plainly on its surface as if that was the source of its strange light. Giving it no time, Grota continued to slice the Werewolf, whose movements were suddenly clumsy and faltering. Each attack seemed to take more of the Shade beast with it and the rapid recovery it once had, seemed ineffective.
Finally raising his sword above his head, he struck the finishing blow through the Werewolf and it erupted into a pile of sludge. Unhindered, Grota walked to where the Trapper had been and raised its shield. A column of light descended, revealing the Trapper, but also seeming to confine some unseen entity. Condensing the light, Grota shifted it into a sphere in front of them.
“Do not let it escape,” the Trapper called.
At his command Grota smote the unseen entity with his sword. The wind, which had been set in motion, died and the remaining ghosts also disappeared. Stumbling as he moved, the Trapper looked at Grota muttering quietly, “Go, I have no further need for you.” Silently, Grota sheathed his sword and walked into the forest.
“Facing both a Beast Shade and a Sleepless Walker. Impressive,” Namic said.
“But look how drained he is,” Ranin said, as the Trapper stumbled to one knee.
He remained motionless, seemingly unable to pick himself up, but finally he found the strength. Standing and striding almost casually, he worked his way back to the cabin, yet despite the front he attempted to show it was plain to see his constant swaying and staggering steps. The brother quickly left to assist him and soon the two returned and the brother guided the Trapper to a place to sit.
“I will get something to treat your injuries,” the Granddaughter said, dashing to another room.
“Are you okay?” the girl asked, tentatively.
“Obviously not,” the Trapper said bluntly, “But I’ve endured worse.”
He clenched his teeth as the brother peeled the hide shirt off the Trapper’s body. The cloth shirt underneath was bathed in blood around his shoulder and chest where the claws had ripped hide, cloth, and skin. Blood was dripping on the floor, still flowing from the punctures in the Trapper’s bracers, which the brother was now working on removing. When he had finished, he produced a knife and cut the back of the Trapper’s shirt to make removal easier.
The girl turned away from the gory sight as they stripped off the blood drenched shirt. Blood still oozed freely from his wounds, smearing the Trapper’s chest and arm in a thick layer of blood. Some of the blood was dry while much was still very fresh. Just then the Granddaughter returned with a large amount of bandage wrap and salve. She set the wrap down and began washing down the Trapper before applying the salve rather liberally.
“Careful,” the Trapper winced at the cold sting of the salve.
“Well, you’ll just have to handle it,” the Granddaughter said.
“Why didn’t Grota help you?” the girl finally asked the Trapper, when the Granddaughter began wrapping him.
“She should know that already,” Ranin said.
“But she must confirm it,” Namic said.
“He had no reason to,” the Trapper said.
“But you’re his master, could you not order him?” the girl asked.
“It is wise not to make enemies with Grota,” the Trapper almost laughed.
“Does he never help you because he wants to?” the girl asked.
“Look, Lass,” the Trapper began. “Every Kazan is looking for something. They have their own goals they want to achieve; just some are more obvious.”
“Sworder’s not like that,” the girl said.
“Oh!” the Trapper said with feigned surprise, “Then if not, he is simply waiting to take what he truly wants.”
“He wants to protect me,” the girl said.
“And you have always agreed on how you are to go about it?” the Trapper asked.
The blow his words dealt could be seen on the girl’s face and she looked around for Sworder’s support, but did not find him in the room. “Where’s Sworder?” she said, alarmed.
“He gave a part of himself to Grota. I am not surprised he is having difficulties.”
The door of the cabin opened and Sworder faltered through. He looked weak and pale, and as he closed the door behind him he clung to it in order to remain standing. The girl jumped up and despite her own disability ran to him, stumbling as she approached. Sworder caught her in his arms, and after she picked herself up, she readjusted her hair. She flashed him a smile, after which the two made their way back to the girl’s resting spot leaning on each other.
“Foolish Lass,” the Trapper said more to himself than anyone else in the room.
“I think you are too hard on Kazans,” Uncle Ben said.
The Trapper grunted at the comment, before saying, “Kazans always have ulterior motives.”
“Are men any different?” Uncle Ben asked.
“An interesting point,” Namic said. “Kazan’s views on achieving goals may differ from men but each takes their opportunities.”
“So what he is saying is: the two are the same except that one has a physical body?” Ranin asked.
“It is a bit more academic than that,” Namic said.
“There. All done,” the Granddaughter said, tying off the wrap, “Now, don’t go straining yourself too hard for at least the next few days.”
“Thank you, m’lady,” the Trapper murmured standing up, and stretched a little.
The Granddaughter looked dejected at the floor stained with blood the Trapper had lost. “And I just cleaned it.”
“That was your mistake, young Lass,” the Trapper said. “You knew what I was about to face.”
“I thought; if you did not believe it could, a beast shade could not hurt you,” the girl suddenly asked, as she repositioned herself on her sitting spot.
“That isn’t as simple as you make it sound,” the Trapper said.
“You ignored the illusions of the Sleepless Walkers,” Sworder said.
“Those are illusions, Beast Shades are not,” the Trapper said. “No, Beast Shades fight emotions.”
“Emotions?” the girl said confused.
“They ignore those indifferent to them,” the Trapper said. “Fear and hate attract them the most. Yes, if you do not concern yourself with them, they will ignore you, but I was tasked to slay it.”
“He is quite knowledgeable about Kazans,” Namic said.
“Beast Shades and Sleepless Walkers do roam free in this land,” Ranin said.
“Now, where did I leave my pack? I should have a spare shirt,” the Trapper said heading towards the adjoining room.
The girl settled down again, but just then she realized Sworder was no longer next to her. In a panic she searched the room for a few moments before remembering herself, forcibly calming herself down. “He deserves the rest,” she said, leaning back and shutting her own eyes.
“It seems the adventure here has come to a close,” Ranin sighed.
“Indeed,” Namic said. “But there is still sometime before they reach the mountains, which will be a challenge of their own.”
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