Engraved - The Hunted Warrior

Chapter 21.3 - Spite and Respite

Something heavy landed on the rocks above Gretch. He grabbed his bow, fitted an arrow to the string, and pointed it up the crack between the two large rocks that he rested beneath. Claws clicked and scraped against the stones above him. He slowed his breathing and focused his mind.

I am Gretch the Hunter. Silent Death. I fear neither man nor beast.

A shadow touched the top of the rocks. Gretch silently drew back the arrow. Over the scraping of claws the sound of sniffling was clear. The noises became louder as the beast drew near. Suddenly the end of a clawed wing jabbed into the crack. The leathery, black, three fingered claw snatched uselessly two paces above Gretch's prone figure. Time and again they grated against the stone walls of the crack. The claws withdrew and the flier's snout jutted in. The front of its black leathery head was covered in scratches and scar tissue. Its dagger-long teeth criss-crossed its jaws in a chaotic mess. It dragged fast deep breaths of air from its long smooth snout, searching him out. Gretch let the arrow fly. It skirted along the top of its snout as he had intended. The arrow cut into its tough flesh but did no serious damage. A shrill scream burst from its mouth, exposing rows of mismatched teeth. It yanked its nose out of the crack and then carefully looked into it with a yellow unblinking eye. Gretch not only met its gaze but also bared his teeth and hissed low and menacingly.

"Berlavi! Terror of the Night Skies! Greatest of Fliers! I know you, but I do not fear you! For I am Gretch the Hunter! Silent Death! The Sleepless One! And you are just another of my prey! Though our Liege thinks that you will defeat me, he is wrong! I have seen you fly and hunt and feed. And though your weaknesses are few, I know them all. Therefore it is you who should fear me!"

The flier shrieked and threw a clawed hand into the crack once more. It reached further this time but still snatched impotently in the air. Gretch laughed at it, mocking it into rage. Again and again it thrust claws into the crack but was unable to touch him.

"Go on! Waste your energy Berlavi! The sooner you tire the sooner you are mine."

As the day wore on the great flier moved back and forth between the top of the crack and its front where Gretch had entered the previous day. Try as he might, Berlavi was unable to touch Gretch. When it seemed to Gretch that the beast's attacks were losing intensity he goaded it by pulling out a chunk of horse flesh and waving it closer to the crack's entrance. The smell of raw flesh drove it to distraction. Through it all Gretch laughed and shouted taunts to fuel its crazed, but impotent, attacks.

Slowly the flier lost intensity. Its claws were thrust in the crack less frequently and less far.

"Are you tired already, Great One?" Gretch mocked. "Or is it hunger that is dulling your muscles?" He tossed the chunk of horse meat just outside of Berlavi's reach. "If you have any wisdom in your tiny brain you will flee now. For I will not sleep, and the moment you do, you will be mine. You can not beat me, for I am The Hunter. Silent Death. The Sleepless One."

A flicker of tiredness and doubt cross its beady yellow eyes.

You may not know my words but you understand their meaning.

It shrieked at him a final time and launched itself into the air. Gretch waited until he heard the fifth beating of its leathery wings. He quickly grabbed his small collection of possessions before leaving the safety of the crack. He knew he had to act fast. It would only be away as long as it needed to hunt. If it found something sizable close-by, such as one of the barbarian's horses, the flier could be back in a handful of minutes.

Gretch found a flat, chair sized rock protruding from the long grass some twenty paces from the crack in the stones. He put all of the remaining horse meat on it and chopped it into rough pieces with his knife. He then tied one end of his rope to a lonely tree on the opposite side of the stone from his shelter, and made a large looped slip knot on its loose end. He laid the rope as taut as possible from the tree to five paces outside his crack in the stone. The slip knot loop he placed as close to the opening as the rope length allowed. He doubted the flier would take much notice of the rope laying in the grass, but it would certainly smell that Gretch had spent time at the tree. To throw off its scent he rubbed rodent entrails in two different places around the clearing. He was hoping to smear them on a third but stopped when he heard the pulse of the flier's wings approaching. He sprinted to the crack and crawled in backwards until he was just barely out of reach of the beast's claws.

It landed with a thud. In its hind legs were the half eaten remains of a small, long haired goat. The flier turned to Gretch and shrieked. It then lifted its head and sniffed. It moved to smell the rodent blood before turning its attention to the horse meat. It bent its head and picked up a small chunk.

Gretch knew he had to act.

He pushed himself forward as fast as his injured leg allowed. Berlavi heard, and saw him coming. Its great black head jerked up. Gretch cleared the crack and sprinted for the loop of rope between them. He would have one chance. The flier pounced. It covered half the distance between them in a single leap. Gretch grabbed the loop. Berlavi opened its jaws wide and shot its head forward. Gretch threw the open loop of rope in the air and vaulted himself backwards. If he missed he was dead. As he twisted around the cut on his leg opened. The beast's head plunged through the airborne loop. The rope closed on its neck and yanked it back. The rope held, biting into its leathery neck.

The flier was tethered to the tree on the opposite side of the clearing, but it wouldn't be for long. Gretch staggered to his feet. Agony shot through his leg, but he did not have time for pain. Berlavi flapped uselessly around and scratched at the rope around its neck with its back talons. Gretch hobbled around, making sure he was out of reach. The more the beast struggled the deeper the rope dug in, but Gretch knew it would snap any second. Seizing a moment when the beast's head was turned he sprinted towards the flier's back. It realised his presence too late. Gretch threw himself on it's back. It bucked, but he was able to get his sheathed greatsword under its neck. Gretch bellowed as he squeezed with all his might. The beast launched into the air, but was pulled down by the rope around its neck. They crashed to the ground in a tangled heap. The flier rolled onto it's back in an attempt to crush Gretch, but still he squeezed, depeiving it of air. Finally one of the talons found the rope and sliced through it. Gretch ignored the burning in his muscles and squeezed harder. Panic took over the flier. It scrambled and jerked wildly, trying to dislodge the man on its back. But Gretch's years of training to ignore pain were too good. However the flier flung itself around it could not shake him off. Lack of air made it dizzy and it collapsed to the ground unconscious. Gretch held on for a few extra seconds to make sure it was truly out.

He crawled off the beast. As fast as he could he limped to the tree and cut the rope free. Once back at the flier he tied its forelegs to its neck, its back legs to its tail, and its wings together.

Once done he moved out of reach of the beast. He wanted to be at a safe distance should it become alert and thrash around. He then sat in front of it and waited for it to regain consciousness.

-----------------------

Feel free to share your thoughts by leaving comments. I appreciate all your feedback.

-Y. V. Qualls