The Scrolls of Skava

Return to the Emerald Oracle - Part 5

     “Wonder what he died of,” said Dennis as he prodded it cautiously with the point of his sword.

     “He was fighting when he died,” said Arroc, “and that looks like clawmarks in his armour.”

     “A wild animal?” said Dennis. “But the body hasn’t been eaten. A wild animal would have dragged it back to its lair and eaten it.”

     “Not a wild animal,” said the trog, his anger rising. “Guard creatures, trained ter attack and kill intruders. Wolves perhaps. What d’ye say now, human?”

     The black girl gulped nervously. “Alright, it was a mistake to come here,” she admitted. “It was impulsive and stupid. I’m sorry I got you all into this.”

     “You didn’t force us to come,” said Dennis, however. “We chose to come. Even you, Arroc. You agreed to follow the others here, so I don’t want to hear any more bellyaching out of you. Understood?”

     The trog grunted and turned away, and Naomi flashed a grateful smile at the soldier. “Come on, let’s get away from this poor chap,” said Dennis. “He gives me the creeps. And everyone stay on your guard. We could meet trouble at any minute.”

     The trog nodded, raising his scimitar warily, and they moved on into the forest.

     They had just arrived at another of the grassy avenues when they heard the howling for the first time. Teasel jumped in fright, reaching for the knife she wore in her belt, and Dennis drew his sword. “Wolves!” he said. “You were right. And they’re close. Best face them here where there’s room to fight.”

     “Stand with your backs to the statue,” said Naomi. “It’ll give us some cover against attacks from behind.”

     Dennis nodded and they ran across to the statue, expecting the wolves to come bounding out of the forest at any time. They made it, however, and felt comforted by the solid bulk of bronze behind them. Now they could only be attacked from one direction.

     Arroc picked Teasel up and sat her on the arm of the statue, where it was thrusting a long spear towards an unseen enemy. “Meaning no disrespect,” he said, “but you’d only get under our feet. You’ll be safer up there.” The nome nodded gratefully.

     Dennis saw movement out of the corner of his eye, the rippling of powerful muscles under a coat of glossy black fur, and he jumped back, raising his sword, but it wasn’t a wolf. It was some kind of big cat. A leopard perhaps, or a panther. It had a dense coat of silky black fur and bright green eyes and it seemed to radiate a kind of feline amusement as it stared unblinkingly at him.

     “Naomi?” asked the soldier, and the cat nodded. He looked behind her and saw her tiger skin nearby, discarded on the grass. “Damn!” he muttered. “Missed it!”

     “Here they come!” cried Arroc, and he turned to see about a dozen wolves emerging from the forest about fifty yards from them. They called them wolves, but only a couple of them bore any resemblance to the denizens of the forests and tundras of the planet Earth. The others belonged to other varieties of the astonishingly diverse predator. Some of them were butterfly wolves, their bristly 'wings' of laterally jutting fur banded in striking colours, and others were crowlags, their wicked beaks opened wide as they screeched a challenge at the four soft skinned prey animals cowering in front of them.

     Large though they were, though, the last towered above even them, and the teamsters quailed at the sight of it. It was a bull wolf. As large and powerful as a bull, it had cloven hooves instead of claws and bore wide, forward pointing horns on the sides of its head, but this was no plant eater as they could see as it opened its jaws, revealing rows of long, daggerlike fangs. This was a predator. The most feared and dangerous of its kind in the world.