Wrath Of The Beast

My Mother Told me

The calm was what bored Iskander. He was to add to the bait and being bait made him the first target. The casted lots had made their decision and he was made prisoner to this boredom in turn. The others hid in the brush while he wasted his talents standing by two hogs, twiddling his thumbs. He held his ax in hand and with a whetstone, went to work. He remembered his father's words 'Never go against the grain of the steel. Do that and you'll chip your blade.' That was a lifetime, and a ship ago. His first ax was nothing like the one in his hand now, it was a small thing fit for small hands. He looked up at the commander, high in the trees above. Although the plan was for Myra or that dalcop Dragomir to take the glory, Iskander would slay the beast. How hard would it be for the blood of Alvin O'carth? His father had raided all along the Falling Sea, he could best one big bug. He pulled the whetstone the last time and looked to where Jethro had hidden amongst the shrubs. 

"Think I should start squawking, wake the slàpr up?" He inquired, a wry smile coming across his handsome face. "Or maybe I could sing us a shanty. Get all those legs dancing on the beastie!" He turned to Myra before sitting against a tree one of the swine was secured to. "That's what ill do. I'll sing a shanty. You grass folk need some islander culture in your lives." 

Iskander closed his eyes then thought and thought to himself, remembering his command at the prow of a longship. He was ten then, no eleven. The men under his command were four or five times his age but pledged to him no less. He remembered his uncle Baldor at his side watching over him. He had such a wonderful singing voice. Then it came to him. 

 "My mother told me🎵, someday I would buy🎵, Galleys with good oars! 🎵Sail to distant Shores!!" He echoed off the surrounding trees. 

He remembered uncle Baldor's face. His beard was black flecked with snow kisses. Even during the twilight, his eyes shined bluer than the waters around them. 

"Stand upon the Prow!🎵 Noble Barque I Steer! Steady Course to the Haven! 🎵Hew many foe men!🎵".

The thunder hid the boom of his battle horn when he blew it. As before the sun blinded the enemy camp to them. His men sang the song as they struggled through the shallows into the beach. 

"My mother told me!!🎵, Someday I would buy🎵, Galleys with good oars! 🎵Sail to distant Shores!!" The water began to sway as he heard the beast rousing below the surface. 

  Iskander thought of how loud he shouted then when he struck first blood. His uncle Right behind him shouting the song with him.

"Stand upon the Prow!!!🎵 Noble Barque I Steer!!!! Steady!! Steady Course to the Haven!!! 🎵hew many foe men!!! Hew many for men!!!🎵". The swine began to shriek but he sang louder, as to draw the beast out. He used this time to reflect. 

When the wind blew into the faces of the bandits back then, Islander added his ax to the droplets. His uncle was ahead of him and it was only the third verse, but he was roaring the words. The bandits stood no chance against the Singing Raiders of clan O'Carth.

"My mother told me!!🎵, Someday I would buy🎵, Galleys with good oars! 🎵Sail to distant Shores!!" He could feel the slow methodical thudding of a dozen legs pounding the ground.

Back then, the Black Bandit heard their cries, and Iskander challenged him. In a fury steel clashed on steel, he moved like a dragonfly and his blade stung the lummox like a wasp. As his men shouted their song around the two, Iskander was thrown aside by the mountain of a man, but before a blow could be raised to him, he saw the bandit's ax in his uncle's shoulder.

"My mother told me!!🎵 Someday I would buy...🎵". Slowly he rose and opened his eyes. The beast was tall and it's shell obsidian. Its arrow-shaped head held beady red eyes and sharp fangs. 

As stubborn then as he is now, he refused to yield, Iskander turned the Black Bandit's blade on him, and the fight was his. He held his uncle in his arms. And roared in fury. The blue eyes he saw were slowly dimming. After the slaughter, plunder, and doing all he could to help his uncle, Iskander was the one who shot the arrow that lit his pire ablaze on the waves. 

Iskander held his guard as the beast swung its massive claw. Another Black Bandit, big and stupid. He cracked the beast along the jaw, with his shield. It stumbled back. No uncle this time. He would regain his honor and glory here and how. The beast roared at him and flared its stinger. His goal. Iskander rolled to the side when a crack of thunder launched the spears deep into the monster's armor. He smiled as it struggled and fell right into the ground trap. It thrashed and moved like a fish out of water. He loved this, leaping he shouted as his blade bit into the tail with a massive crunch, and removed the stinger.  Before he could move again he saw the others. Dragomir was rushing towards the Polypus, his oversized blade in both hands, as Myra dropped from the tree charging her massive hammer with energy as she came down on the beast's back. She was too far to the rear. 

The damn girl overshot her mark, thankfully this would give Iskander another chance if Dragomir missed too. But his blade strike was more true, he cut off one of the beast's massive pincers, and his blade dug into its carapace. Before the beast could remove his partner's head he retreated, attempting for another strike. Then, as the monster was bleeding its blue blood, dying and in pain, it let out an enormous, rock splitting screech, so iskander covered his ears and fell to a fetal position, then. Silence. As he got up he saw the commander, blades blue with it's blood and the head of the creature on the ground. 

"Well rookies. The easy part is over." He said from below his helm as he cleaned his blades, the tone he had roused anger in Iskander, he hated the commander's smugness, and this time he'd had enough.

"What in the name of the Wolf Spider do you mean?!" Iskander shouted from beneath his helmet. 

"He means the monster was able to make a sonic cry for help. Which was a lure to every predator in the region." Myra replied as she slumped down from the back of the polypus' corpse. 

"No thanks to you!" He shouted at her as she pulled off her helm. "You and blade boy over there was supposed to kill than damn thing fast! What happened to that?!" 

"Hey at least we did something unlike you with your runt of an ax!" Dragomir barked back.

"That's enough!!" An accented voice shouted, followed by an arrow hitting the ground between the three of them. It was Jethro. He was usually quiet, but Islander wanted to see what had riled him up so that he'd shout. 
"You three argue so much it makes my horns hurt! Here we are basking in the glory of our commander and teacher, and instead of trying to learn from him, we sit and argue over what? Petty Glories?" He picked up the arrow and placed it back into the quiver.  "I do not know your thoughts and I cannot speak for you, but I think you all want to be better than one another more than you want to be good hunters or even a good team."  As he moved over near the commander, he raised his hood and kept his face hidden as if embarrassed at his outburst. Iskander was boiling under his skin, it was then he looked at the polypus' corpse, seeing the precise spots where Jethro's arrows had laid. Though they weren't detrimental, the placements of shots were to the advantage of the close-range fighters, slowing the creature's movements. In other words, he played his part to help the team. 

"We don't have time for this." Aaron snapped getting everyone to attention."We need to get the body out of here, and head to a more defensible location." He turned and gave a loud whistle.

"Lord Commander, if I may ask." Dragomir started. " What is the danger? We are five hunters. What beast could be of threat to us combined?" 

Without a word the commander took off his helm and looked them over. "You know I asked that very same question once. I'll spare you the explicit details." He paused and peered into the eyes of the dead polypus. "Dead of winter, my squad, believing ourselves ready, we were caught in a storm. Half of us made it out with our fingers frostbitten. The other half were never found. Well, not fully. Interesting what a hungry frost Yogh can do when you're arrogant, young, and freezing cold."

Aaron looked up at them. "Pack up the body. We move out as soon as it's done." His tone reminded Iskander of his mother, when she would tell him to pack up his toys. He dare not defy or question the man then, so he did as told.

The ride back was silent, save for the hungry snorting of the two swine.