"Show me," asked Carver, welcoming the distraction. At least he could get a first hand look at the challenge before him. "Let's deal with this now. We can get back to the details of the contract later."
The Princess nodded. "Kelior, please get the Warrior a sword, would you?"
Kelior led him into a small room nearby which was half full of swords and other weapons racked against the walls. Carver spent a couple of moments seeking the largest blade. It was bright silver, with a strip of black sturdy leather bound around the grip, and a simple ball-shaped pommel. To his surprise, it fit comfortably into his hand as if it had been born for it. Kelior chose a smaller blade and another bow, larger than the one she had been carrying.
"Follow me," she directed, leading the way to a staircase which had been hidden in the corner of the room. They wound their way up the narrow circular steps, Carver ducking his head to fit. "This will take us up above ground, to the ramparts." Kelior explained. "The sun set a few moments ago so it will be getting dark. That's when the Bursas attack most often."
Eventually they came out onto the roof of the Palace, a flat platform surrounded on three sides by a low wall.
"Here," said Kelior, crossing to look over one of the walls. "We should get a clear view."
Carver stood at her side, peering over the edge. He saw an armsman down in the street, facing a large green creature the size of a small Martian hover-car, and realised Kelior hadn't been joking. The monster had three heads and five snake-like tails which it was whipping around in an attempt to grab hold of the armsman. It looked uncommonly like an image Carver had once seen of an ancient Earth creature - a Velociraptor. Except with three heads instead of one.
Kelior notched an arrow into her bow and drew back, looking for a clear shot.
"How do you kill them?" asked Carver urgently, wondering whether the Bursa had three brains to go with the heads. "Where is the best spot to aim for?"
"The centre head is the important one," said Kelior. "Aim either for the point between its eyes or else in the chest just below the centre neck."
"So if I cut off the middle head, that should kill it?"
Kelior raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure it would. And you might just be strong enough to do it too." She mused.
The armsman down below was hacking at the nearest head with his blade. Two of the tails had caught him round the waist and he was simply slashing at whatever he could reach. Kelior let the arrow loose but it hit the monster in the side of the neck. Green ichor flowed from the wound, spattering the armsman. He screamed and slashed more frenziedly.
"I'm disgusted, I'm repulsed... And I can't look away," murmured Carver. "But this isn't getting the job done." In a flash he clambered onto the wall and, to Kelior's astonishment, floated gracefully down to street level.
Carver had his sword in his hand and in two strokes, freed the trapped man, who staggered back against the wall, wiping futilely at the green fluid on his face. With another powerful blow from his strong arms, Carver saw all three of the monster's heads fly off and bounce along the street.
He watched for a moment to make sure the Bursa was really dead before spinning around to check for more. Kelior, meanwhile, had climbed down the Palace wall and come to stand at his side. She had her sword in one hand, her bow in the other and her eyes were shining. "Oorah! Let's clear the streets, Warrior!"
~~~
Carver and Kelior managed to dispose of four more Bursas before the remainder fled. When they ran, the creatures twisted their tails into one thick spiral, which made them more streamlined and provided better balance. The two warriors watched as the last three creatures disappeared down the street and into the night.
Hands on his knees as he got his breath back, Carver felt exhilarated. Killing monsters was more to his taste than killing humans, much as though he thought the rebels deserved it.
He hadn't believed Kelior when she told him that the last time her people fought against others of their race was several generations ago. Could it possibly be true that these people had progressed beyond war? To the tragic contrast of his own species which was still fighting at this very moment, with no end in sight. He struggled to remember - had there ever been a peace on his world, which lasted for more than a year or two?
"So what has made the Bursas into a threat?" Carver asked. "I presume they are native to this part of Ko'sstahn?"
"There have always been one or two roaming in this area, but nothing like the numbers we see now. Usually they live on the plains far to the west. But our herders say there has been less rain than usual for the last few years, and the Bursas have come closer, seeking food. They are carnivores."
"And they have discovered people are food?"
"Yes. Unfortunately." Kelior looked around at the houses, all in darkness. The only light came from the stars and four burning flares on top of the palace roof. "It's no longer safe to be up here at night time - we should go back down to the lower levels. Besides, the Princess will be waiting."
She walked across to a small wooden door set in the Palace wall, with a tiny bell attached by a rope. But before she could ring, there was a sound of pounding feet -getting louder by the second.
Carver peered down the street and saw a wave of black-green monsters swarming towards them. "Looks like they weren't running away after all," he said. "They went to get reinforcements!"
Carver swung the sword and beheaded the leader, even as Kelior fired arrows into the pack, one after the other as fast as she could. But there were too many. Carver's dust-red body armour protected him from teeth and claws but Kelior was not so lucky. He saw her disappear underneath one of the Bursa, its claws scrabbling to rip open her stomach.
Hastily, he hauled Kelior out from underneath, slung his arm around her waist and used his gravity boots to raise them rapidly up to the Palace roof. "There must be a hundred of them," he marvelled.
If only the photon gun on his back was armed and not a dummy. He could have mown them down in seconds.
"There are too many for the two of us to tackle head on," said Carver. Then he realised Kelior was standing where he had left her on the roof, still in shock. "Kelior? What about fire? Are they afraid of fire?"
"I-I don't know," she stuttered. "How did you-?"
"Most animals are afraid of fire," said Carver, grabbing one of the flares as he spoke. He flung it like a javelin right into the middle of the pack. It struck one of the Bursas through the throat and it fell to the ground thrashing in agony. Blood and green ichor spurted out, spraying its companions. Carver had no idea what the ichor was made of, but wherever the flames came in contact with the ichor, they flared more brightly. Screams and squeals filled the air as the Bursas tried to escape from the flames, trampling some of the smaller creatures in their panic.
Carver grabbed another flare and threw it, aiming for the largest Bursa he could see. He hoped it was the leader. The flare speared it through the chest and it fell heavily, knocking over several others and scattering more fire. Its acid green eyes glared up at Carver before it disappeared beneath the pack.
"Can you get any more flares?" Carver shouted to Kelior. He could see some of the Bursas trying to leap up the walls to reach the Palace roof. He took hold of the remaining flare and flung it into the pack. If only he had another dozen or so flares, he thought he could turn the tide. He hoped, if he killed enough monsters, the others might decide to move on and seek food elsewhere.
"There are more flares in the storeroom. Can you keep the Bursas off while I get them?'
"I'll do my best," said Carver, slicing off the head of a Bursa which poked up above the rampart. "Be as quick as you can."
Carver fell into a sort of dance rhythm. Slicing and slashing, stepping back and forth as the heads reared above the rampart walls. He lost count of how many of the monsters he despatched before the Palace door opened behind him and a small group of armsmen emerged, all carrying unlit flares. Kelior was last through, bearing a bucket full of burning coals. The armsmen, male and female, lined up to plunge their flares into the bucket, looking anxiously at the Bursa heads bobbing over the rampart. The sound of claws scratching on brick and the screams of wounded Bursa filled the night.
As if the smell of people so close inflamed them, a group of Bursas gathered themselves and plunged over the rampart together, scattering the armsmen in all directions.
"Light the flares!" screamed Kelior.
Carver slashed, fighting to keep the Bursas at bay, when he slipped in a pool of blood and his feet went out from under him. In seconds he was overrun. The last thing he heard was the Bursa on top of him scream as the fiery flare plunged into its side, but by then it was too late.