Harm's face twisted in anger as he crouched, awaiting the approaching guards and their hound. He didn't know if Jaftu had escaped; he hadn't responded to his thoughts. He could only hope he had survived. The silence told Harm what he already knew, even if he didn't wish to accept it.
The bastards! Harm thought.
The hound appeared before the mounted guards. Its white teeth glinted in the moonlight as it barrelled through the hedgeline of the field before the woods it was hidden in. It looked like no hound Harm had ever seen, its eyes shone silver in the moonlight, and its teeth were glazed in crimson. Harm knew whose blood that had to be.
He had fought many beings and beasts in his past, including facing hellhounds, but this thing running towards his position appeared to be the creation of chaos itself. It snarled, looking directly at where Harm hid, not slowing as it sprinted across the field.
"Slow down," a voice called from behind the beast.
It wasn't slowing; its shoulders were as wide as Harm's waist, and it must have been nearly three feet at its shoulder. Strong muscular limbs were driving it forward.
There was one way to deal with a charging beast, and that was to lance them. Harm had no lance; he only had Florence, and she would have to do. He drove his heel into the ground, twisting his foot, to give him leverage, then, with Florence gripped tightly in his sweaty palms, he pointed her blade at the beast, resting the hilt against his thigh.
This was going to hurt, he knew that before the beast even hit him. I should have used a tree! Harm thought at the last moment as the beast launched through the underbrush directly where he crouched.
The beast wailed in pain as its momentum drove it into Florence, her pristine point burying, scoring a deep slash in its foreleg, which carried down its flank. The weight of the ungodly beast crashed into Harm, sending him tumbling backwards. He grunted from the impact, his armour only absorbing part of the blow. He still held Florence, thankful his grip hadn't failed him, and groaned as he quickly rose.
The beast scrambled to its feet beside him, turning its jaws and growling. Harm didn't pause and swung Florence. The beast leapt back out of its range, and Harm noticed it falter as it landed, its injured foreleg hampering its movement. That was its weakness and Harm's focus.
With a creature like this, you couldn't leave yourself open, and he instantly brought Florence into what could only be a fencer's pose. It wasn't his strongest stance by far, but against an enemy like this, there was no better. Rather than swinging, he thrust as he stabbed towards it. The beast snarled, backing away, always out of range. Harm could hear the hooves of the guards and their calls as they grew nearer.
He wouldn't usually use his bash skill against such a target, but he needed to close the gap.
Harm shot forward almost instantly, Florence pointing in front of him. The beast attempted to move, but it stood no chance, as Harm pierced it through its chest. It yelped in pain as Florence buried deeply in its flesh. Harm brought his boot up and kicked against its head as he pulled Florence free.
The beast moaned, then snarled but was unable to attack. Blood spurted from the wound, the hound staggering, its limbs shaking. Harm felt no remorse. He watched it only for a fleeting moment before he twisted Florence in his grip and brought her point down through the beast's skull. It crumpled to the floor, and Harm grunted as he withdrew Florence. He had no time to consider the beast as the calls of the guards neared.
Harm heard the rearing of a horse as its hooves neared.
"Where's that damn beast gone?" one of the mounted guards called.
"I don't know. Satil should never have got that sick beast," another voice answered.
"I can't see anything in this light in these woods, and I ain't taken the horse in," the original guard said.
Harm didn't recognise the voices, but he knew that many of Satil's town guard weren't much more than bullies, following his every whim.
"Fuck this," the original guard said. Their horses were whinnying, and Harm guessed it was probably from the coppery smell of the blood that soaked the forest floor not thirty feet from them.
Kill them, feed me their deaths! The god whispered in his mind.
Harm was crouched by the side of the dead beast; he could feel its blood seeping into his leather pants. His breath was shallow, quiet and controlled. He stared from between the trees, his new vision painting the two guards clearly in the moonlight, where their horses skittered. He didn't need to kill them; he knew they would leave. They had just said as much, but a fire that smouldered deep within his soul sparked.
He switched Florence to his offhand and called a dagger to his main. Then, before his thoughts caught up with his actions, the dagger was released. It spun out from the trees, its blade glinting in the moonlight as it turned end over end. Neither of the guards even saw it coming as it struck the first guard in his abdomen.
The guard grunted in pain, looking down, his face a picture of confused shock as Harm charged from the treeline.
He didn't scream; he didn't shout; he just moved like the wind, crossing the ground to the other guard before he had time to react. Having switched Florence back as he moved, he swung with both hands at the saddle straps. The blade slashed through them and cut the horse, making it rear.
It didn't matter how hard the guard grabbed the reins to remain on the mount as the saddle slipped sideways and he fell heavily to the floor. The horse landed and bolted.
Now the guard was on the ground; he was an easy target, as Harm pounced like an animal on him. He held Florence over his head, blade pointing down, as he leapt at his prey. The guard screamed, but it was futile, as Florence pierced his throat, just above the plate breastplate he wore.
The first guard had just managed to pull the dagger free from his abdomen, dropping it to the ground as he pulled his sword from its sheath.
Harm stood from his prey, a twisted smile on his face. In the moonlight, he would have looked like a demon, his eyes glowing red like hot coals.
The guard was uncertain, his horse skittering as he was doubled over the dagger wound, which was bleeding heavily, and it ran down the horse's flank. With sword in hand, rather than attack, he dug his heels in and spurred the horse forward. It ran towards Harm, who stepped out of its path. He had expected the guard to turn and charge him, but he didn't; instead, he kept running as he wheeled the horse back towards the town.
Harm watched for the briefest moment before he started to laugh. His laugh didn't feel real; it couldn't be. It was deep, resonant and jovial. How could he laugh after the atrocities that he had just committed? It may have been defensive, but why was he laughing?
The guard glanced back briefly over his shoulder as his mount sprinted back towards town. His only sight was of a wild beast with glowing red eyes, covered in blood, laughing maniacally.
He didn't know how long he had stood there. Time appeared to have stopped as he looked down at the dead guard.
Well done! The god's voice crooned.
What did I just do? Harm thought, as he looked at his hands, blood-soaked, his trousers again ruined, from the beast's blood, his upper torso covered from the spray of the guard's throat wound, which still slowly oozed blood.
You killed your enemy! Those who threaten you and your family!
My family is dead. Harm thought in response.
Your new family. They killed one of yours; you kill two of theirs, a fair trade in my eyes. The god laughed.
So, Jaftu is dead?
You already knew that; you saw the colour of the beast's jaws.
Harm did know, and the god confirming it didn't make it any better.
"Fuck," Harm shouted. He needed to move; he didn't have time to stand questioning his sanity. He needed to catch up with the others; they were weighed down with the packs for Pardew, and he was sure he could catch them unladen.
He bent and looted the corpse of the guard, taking his breastplate and his weapons. There was nothing else of use, and he turned, heading back into the woods.
His mind reeled as he ran, his thoughts trying to process what had happened. He'd never been that reckless in combat; he had not needed to attack the guards. They were leaving. Uncertainty burned at the back of his mind, questioning his sanity. Was that him? Or had Death taken hold of him? He didn't know and couldn't be sure.
It took him only thirty minutes to catch up with the group. Pardew looked exhausted and half dead, gasping and stumbling, being dragged by the goblins.
"Harm," Griku said, seeing the big man approach. "What happened? Are you okay?" he asked after seeing the state of Harm.
"I'm fine," Harm said as he caught them up. "Let Pardew rest. Are you trying to kill our armourer?"
Griku, coloured, from being chastised by Harm. "Sorry, Harm, we just wanted to get him to safety."
"I know, but it would do no good if you were dragging a corpse."
"Rest," Harm said.
Pardew was doubled over, resting on his knees, his breathing coming in gasps. Harm walked to him and helped him sit down before offering him a waterskin.
Pardew took it gratefully, gulping down the water before coughing violently. He held the skin away and wiped his mouth, then looked at the skin. "This isn't one of mine. It's not too bad for an apprentice, perhaps," he mused over the waterskin.
Harm couldn't help but smirk. "You will have many to teach."
"Did you see Jaftu?" Griku asked hopefully.
Harm looked at the goblin blankly as he answered. "Jaftu is dead."
"No," Griku cried. "It's all my fault if I hadn't knocked the barrel."
"You didn't kill him," Harm snapped. "Satil's beast did."
Griku stared at him wide-eyed. "Beast?"
"Yes. There was a beast; it was like a hound but larger. It wasn't a hellhound, but something similar."
"How do you know?"
"I killed it."
Griku gulped.
"Pardew, we can't rest for long. As soon as you're fit, we'll set off again, slower this time. I think it will be a while before anyone tries to follow us."
Pardew nodded from where he sat; his breathing was slowly returning to normal. "I hope it will be slower," Pardew said.
After several more minutes, Harm stood. "Okay, let's go," he said, grabbing the largest backpack and throwing it onto his back with ease.
He then helped Pardew stand. "Ready, old man?"
"Less of the old," Pardew snapped as he moved off.
"Does he know he's going the wrong way?" Griku said after a few moments.
"Nope," Harm laughed.
Pardew stopped and turned back, where they all still stood. "This way," Harm said, pointing before setting off. All he could hear behind him was a stream of curses.
Morning had broken by the time they had returned to the clan. The goblins were looking at Pardew with suspicion. Dafu walked over on seeing them return, immediately clocking the state of Harm and the lack of Jaftu.
"You need to get yourself down the river and wash," Dafu said, not even enquiring about what had happened.
Harm glanced down, seeing the state he was in again, now even more apparent in the daylight. "We need two new huts, one for Pardew to live in and the other for him to work from," Harm called as he strode towards the river.
"What about me? You're leaving me with them?" Pardew cried in dismay.
"Unless you want to come and scrub my back? Dafu will look after you. I won't be long," Harm called over his shoulder.
