Tales of Red Sonja

Menagerie: Chapter Three

In which Red Sonja is faced with something longer than she can cope with.

It was a serpent – black and glistening – twelve, maybe fifteen feet long; and as thick as her waist. Already it had thrown a coil round her hips and its tail had her by the ankle. Its head reared high above her and she grabbed at it, desperately trying to stop it from wrapping itself round her neck. It hissed at her hideously, mouth agape, revealing two shiny white fangs fully six inches long. And that was wrong, she knew, because such fangs belonged in a venomous snake, whereas this specimen was clearly a constrictor.

But if the fangs were wrong, it was the eyes that filled her with horror. Even as she struggled, she stared at the eyes. Normal reptilian eyes were narrow and yellow; these were white, with bright blue irises – almost human eyes. And they were gazing at her intently, as if studying its prey. Merciful Goddess, here was a snake that could think.

Not that it needed to be overly cunning. It was immensely strong and weighed as much as a horse. Sonja toppled back in the water, rolling over and over as the coils wrapped themselves ever tighter around her. Had it attacked her in the deeper part of the river she would've been doomed for certain; but as she fought for her life in the shallows she found that every so often her head broke surface and she was able to snatch a hurried breath.

Nevertheless, she knew that she had very little time left. One massive coil was pressing her left arm against her chest, and her legs were pinioned. With her free arm she reached for her thigh and dragged her dagger out of its sheath.

Frantically, she stabbed at the mass of scales. "Even when I'm naked I'm still armed, you revolting worm," she screamed. Stab, stab, stab. The scales were tough, and though she was doing some damage it was not enough. She was rolled over again and held head downwards under the water. Still she struggled; still she stabbed. Then the snake seemed to adjust its hold somehow, and her right leg was suddenly free. She dug her heel into the bed of the river. Leverage.

Straining every muscle, she rolled both herself and the snake over again until her head was above the surface. She knew she'd never have the strength to do so again, which meant that she had to finish things now. The eyes – she had to stab for the eyes. She tried once, but her adversary seemed to anticipate her move and dodged its head out of the way. Then, still staring directly at her, it raised another coil of itself out of the water and struck Sonja on the wrist. The dagger was knocked from her hand and fell into the river with a splash.

There was a pause. The snake held Sonja motionless, gazing at her. Erlick and Mithra, she thought, it's gloating. It knows I'm finished; but it wants me to know that it knows.

Possibly realising that it had made its point, the snake forced Sonja under the water. She took a deep breath, knowing that it would be her last. She continued to struggle, but it was like trying to lift a mountain with one hand. She felt dizzy; lights danced inside her skull.

A shudder went through the snake. Then a second; and a third – and suddenly she was free. She stood up, gasping for air, and caught a glimpse of the serpent swimming away from her, the feathered shafts of three arrows sticking out of it. Sonja turned. Standing on the bank was a man with a bow in his hand. Sonja looked down. The water was up to her navel. She crossed her hands over her chest.

"Turn around," she called.

"What?"

"I said, turn around!"