A cool breeze rustled the tall grass along the meandering bank. Clumps of froth lazily drifted along the river, following its curving path. They settled just before a wide bend, getting caught up in the reeds. A timid mud deer lapped water at the river's edge, wary of the strangers on the opposite bank.
Peter yawned widely. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, but already he and his companion had trekked deep into the bog. Bleary-eyed and sluggish, he stepped cautiously along the bank, careful to keep his boots out of soft mud. Locating his target, he bent down to grab a chain by the water's edge and yanked firmly. A small cage came dripping out of the river's depths as Peter pulled it towards him, empty. Stifling another yawn, Peter reached into his pocket and attached an apple core, before throwing the cage back into the river.
"Got a big one here!" His companion called.
Finally. Peter thought. He walked further down the bank to find Beruka standing tall, rattling her cage about. Beruka, to Peter's annoyance, was definitely a morning person. Beaming brightly, she jogged over to Peter to show him her catch. About the size of a small melon, the bullrush snapped at the finger Beruka teasingly poked through the cage.
"You're a feisty little guy. Told'ya mud deer bits made the best bait." She said holding the cage up to Peter's face.
"Yeah, yeah. Gold medal for you. Let's head back."
The Kendite Marsh was several miles across, a solitary river spanning its length. At points it expanded into small lakes, at others it was narrow enough to step across. Tall grass thrived along the river where it was able to soak up all it wanted, whereas lush fields developed along the lakes where the twisted cypress trees kept the grass at bay. The river gave life to the entire ecosystem, home to plentiful wildlife. It was along this river, Peter and Beruka trod, heading back to camp.
It had been four days since they set out from Kertan. It had only taken a day's travel to reach the marsh, but Beruka insisted on proper preparation before they engaged their mark. Hence, she set out with Peter each morning to map out their battleground, identify their point of attack, and in today's case, capture an example for the troops.
Peter had to admit, despite the miserable hour, he was actually in high spirits. Being forced against his will into a fight to the death with a mythical creature aside, travelling with Beruka had been a surprisingly enjoyable experience. The tough woman he had met in Mathers' cabin turned out to be outgoing and jovial by nature. On the way up, the soldiers exchanged crude jokes to pass the time; Beruka's were the foulest of the bunch. At camp, she prepared breakfast every morning, preferring to hunt fresh game herself. Afterwards, she would wrestle with the troops, providing helpful tips to those she fought, yet always emerging as the victor. Indeed, the longer they travelled together, the more Peter came to admire her.
They approached the point where they had crossed the river. Peter stopped to roll up his pants while Beruka simply carried on. "Really Peter? How do you plan on facing a monster if you're afraid of getting wet." She splashed into the river, water rising up to her shins. She let the cage drop briefly as she waded across, submerging the creature before pulling it back out.
Peter frowned in annoyance. Logically it just made sense to take the extra minute; why spend the rest of the morning wet? Leaving his pants alone, he instead opted to form a small bubble in his palm and tossed it into the river. The bubble expanded as it slowly drifted downstream. Peter timed his jump accordingly, and hopped over to it. Ready to leap once more, the bubble burst below him. With a gasp of shock, Peter fell ass first into the cold stream, drenching himself completely.
Beruka let out a cry of raw mirth, causing the bullrush to recoil in fear. As Peter slowly pulled himself up the bank, she announced, "Behold! The great mage that will defend us, on this, the day of our battle!"
"Shut up," Peter muttered, pushing past her, his face burning red.
They carried on, Beruka still chuckling, until she broke the silence, "So how does it work then? Your magic?"
Peter grabbed a handful of his cloak, wringing it out, then held up his palm to show her. "My hands produces a liquid, kind of like soap, that escapes from the pores in my palms."
Beruka took his arm and ran a finger down his palm, wetting herself with the soapy film. "Gross."
Peter yanked his arm back. Holding it out, a small bubble began to grow. "The liquid takes in air at my direction. As well as lets it back out." The bubble shrunk back into nothing.
"Neat. So that's how you shoot it?"
Peter nodded. "Yeah, I can control the direction of airflow. As well as the size, thickness, and buoyancy of the bubbles I form.. provided I get the math right." He said, once again, wringing out his cloak.
"Must be handy to do magic." Beruka pondered.
"Technically, it's not magic." Peter explained. "Magic is just what made me this way."
"What's the difference?" Beruka asked casually.
"It's not magic when a lava eel spews fire or a polar bear dons its coat of snow. That's just the way they are. And this is just the way I am."
"Enh. Tomatoes and oranges will both keep you fed." She said indifferently.
The two pushed past some low hanging branches to finally reach camp. The rising sun illuminated the tents littered about the small clearing as the men were waking up to start the day. Four plough horses, all that they could gather, stood tethered to a stake in the ground next to a solitary wooden caravan. A small campfire burned at the centre with five men huddled around it. The leader of the small militia stood in front of the mess tent, pouring water over his face, droplets falling from his scraggly beard.
"RUKA!" A small figure shot towards them with blinding speed. Beruka just managed to drop the cage in time to grab Fi and launch her into the air. Fi soared straight up, clearing the height of the trees. Then fell back down into Beruka's arms. Both giggling, Beruka gave Fi a big hug and twirled her around before setting her down again.
"What happened to you?" Fi turned her attention to Peter, forming a small puddle where he stood.
"You should've seen it Fi. The bullrush escaped from the cage and Peter heroically jumped into the river and snatched it up with his bare hands!" Beruka exclaimed dramatically.
Fi blinked, unconvinced. "That doesn't sound like-"
"Shut up." Peter muttered and went to sit with the others by the fire.
Beruka and Fi had become fast friends. Peter had feared that with the added company, Fi would be forced to wear her hood up the whole way; an argument that would have tested the boundaries of their friendship. However, having been present in the cabin at the time, Beruka had her suspicions and unhooded Fi herself the moment they met. She instantly fell in love with Fi's "adorably cute" ears and upon meeting up with the militia, made it perfectly clear that Fi was their superior and she would not stand for any actions or remarks against her.
"So this is a bullrush, hunh?" Fi crouched down to stare at the trapped creature. The bullrush stared back with its large red eyes. It had fins along its spine, ending in a stubby tail that seemed to constantly shift its angle. Its vibrant green body was cartoonishly round with stumpy little legs that barely reached the floor. Fi thought that if she pierced it, it just might pop.
"Aye, and a fat one at that. Most don't live long enough to develop such a distinct spine, see?" Beruka pointed, "Were you able to rouse the troops?"
"Kind of," Fi answered, as the two walked back to camp. "Reg was up before me setting up for breakfast. I closed my eyes and yelled in all the tents like you said. Everyone came out soon enough, except for Paulie. He's still fast asleep. But to be fair, I think even if you sent a tree bear to wake him, he'd just use it to cuddle."
Beruka chuckled, "Good work, couldn't hope for more. I'll deal with Paulie."
Peter munched on a slice of toast as he warmed himself by the fire. The men around him sat gloomily, nervous of what lay ahead. When Beruka spoke of soldiers, Peter had hoped for battle-worn men, capable of engaging their supposedly gargantuan target. These men however, looked green as the marsh itself. Plucked from the neighbouring villages, the militia was comprised of young, able-bodied farmers and fishermen. With the promise of gold straight from their King's coffers, these ten men heeded Beruka's call. Only Reginald, their commander, had any experience in battle. And even that, Peter thought, would not be worth much today.
A loud yelp caused the men by the fire to all turn in their seats. Beruka emerged from a tent, bucket in hand, dragging a disheveled man behind her. He was sopping wet, struggling to prop himself up, staggering like a newborn fawn.
"Okay already. I'm up. I'm up!" Paulie moaned on hands and knees.
Beruka let go of the man and addressed the camp, "Alright everyone! Meeting in the mess tent, now!"
The soldiers hurriedly scarfed down their remaining toast and lined into the large tent without a word. Peter was last to begrudgingly leave his place by the fire. Beruka stood at the head of a large circular table, with Reg and Fi sitting at her sides. The remaining soldiers settled in along the bench. With no choice left, Peter reluctantly took the seat beside Paulie, who was shaking his head like a dog.
"Blasted woman woke you up too eh?" Paulie whispered. Peter ignored him.
"Today is the day." Beruka stated. Her words rippled along the table as each man took in her meaning. "As you know, we are tasked directly by King Aberon himself to rid Maridel of a fearsome menace; a mighty beast that has plagued our kingdom and taken countless lives."
The men shifted, uneasy; the fire of her words failing to reach their cold feet.
"Let's get to it." Beruka hoisted the cage up and brought it down on the table with a small thud. The bullrush whipped around in its cage, terrified of the many eyes now pointed towards it. "This here is a bullrush. Cuddly little guy, isn't he?" Squirming and bug-eyed, cuddly was far from accurate. "The target will look pretty much like this, but you know, a fair bit larger. So it shouldn't be too hard to spot. Now, who can tell me its weak points?"
Paulie gulped. The soldiers around the table shifted their eyes, not wanting to be called upon as their commander shook his head in disappointment.
"Peter," Beruka called across the table, "would you care to take the lead?"
All eyes turned to him, as he slowly stood up. Fi started clapping, but abruptly stopped after a stern look from Reg. The time for nerves will come, he thought, now isn't it. He cleared his throat unnecessarily and addressed the group.
"Right. Bullrushes are amphibious. They hatch and develop deep within the lake before permanently migrating onto land, losing their gills and gaining a set of lungs in the process. While this does mean they lose the ability to breathe underwater, it does not mean they no longer swim. To approach the beast in a lake or river is suicide. We must take it out on land."
Each man paid close attention as Peter looked to them in turn. When his gaze reached Beruka and Fi, he saw them both beaming like idiots. Face reddening, he turned his attention back to the bullrush and continued, "As you can see, it looks almost inflated, much like a balloon. And much like a balloon, if we pierce it, it will pop. Lances, arrows, pointy... things. That's what we bring with us into battle."
Peter motioned, and a soldier cautiously prodded the cage over to him. With a flick of the latch, he undid the bolt and let the bullrush free. Paulie recoiled as Peter grabbed it in both hands and faced it towards the troops. "The head is something we want to avoid. The skull beneath its skin grows thick. We'll barely leave a scratch." Using his fingers, he massaged the creature's face, highlighting the solid bone beneath. "The eyes are an inviting target, but a small one. I have great reservations about your abilities to make the shot when it comes down to it, so we're going to avoid them altogether. We'll keep it simple and focus on the gut: here and here." Peter indicated to the bullrush's sides.
Beruka took over, "The plan is simple. We lure the beast out and surround it. Everyone is to keep their distance. I will take the lead and you will follow ONLY if you have an opening to do so. If the beast decides to target you and you find yourself in a pinch, Peter will be on standby to back you up and get you out of there safely. Any questions?"
"Beruka ma'am." Paulie was on his feet. "We all know of your strength, and truthfully, we're glad to have you lead the charge, but.." And here, he shot a sideways glance at Peter, "The boys and I have been talking and if nobody's gonna speak up, heck I might as well. We came here with the understanding that a certified mage would be fighting along with us."
"And I brought you one." Beruka stated. Her eyes caught the men, muttering in their seats. Peter, too, did not fail to notice their restlessness.
"No offense to you, Pete. Your magic tricks are entertaining and all, but we thought we were getting a real mage." Paulie continued.
"He is a real mage!" Fi stood in her seat, glaring at Paulie with contempt.
"That's not what I meant." He spluttered. "I meant a strong mage." The mutterings of agreement grew louder.
"He's plenty stronger than you Paulie, you useless schmuck." Fi said.
Paulie bristled in anger. "Not to mention bringing a little girl along. We can't be expected to protect her too." The men burst into a chorus of complaints; fear and anxiety coming forth in an unending torrent.
"Silence!" Reginald's brusque voice cut across the table. The men fell silent turning to their commander as Paulie slunk back in his seat. "There will be no more talk of Peter's ability or the girl's involvement. They have their jobs on this mission as you have yours. They will execute their role as you will yours."
Turning to Peter, his grave expression did not change. "My concern however, lies in the strategy. You can't possibly expect everything to go smoothly when we have no idea what the beast we go to slay is capable of."
Peter frowned. He let go of the bullrush, letting it scamper off the table. Paulie cringed as it brushed by him and fled out of the tent. "Listen men. Reg is right. We have no idea what we're in for. A bullrush the size we're expecting is nothing anyone has ever hunted before. It's possible that none of our tactics will be effective. But we must remain in control. If we lose our heads, we die. It may be a little sloppy but-"
"It will be sloppy." Reginald spoke only to him, "And when that time comes, we will rely on you to have our backs. Do not let us down."
Beruka tapped her finger against her forearm. She sensed that productivity had expired from this meeting. "Prepare your things. We set out at once. Let's at least try to have some fun."
The men filed out, leaving Peter standing alone with Beruka and Fi. Fi gave him a reassuring pat on the belly before walking past. He looked up at Beruka, "You sure we're ready for this?"
Beruka grinned, her eagerness plain. "I am. Are you?"
The men hurried to pack camp as Fi stood at the center giving orders. Two men sat in the dirt frantically sharpening their lance tips. The commander helped another fill the quivers and amass the bows. The rest struggled to don their armor; armor, in this case, being rough leather vests with shin guards made of cowhide to protect their legs. Only Reg wore a copper breastplate with greaves, but it was worn and old with various nicks and scrapes from previous fights.
Beruka emerged from her tent, fully prepared. Fi beamed in admiration. She wore thick leather gloves that matched her steel-toe boots. Knee and elbow guards fashioned from steel plates were strapped over her clothing. Her thick braids were tied down and necklaces removed to accommodate the light iron chainmail she wore. Over her shoulders she held a menacing halberd. Its pole was dyed deep crimson, contrasting beautifully with the blue steel of the sharpened axe head. Fi ran over, begging to hold the weapon. Beruka dropped it in her hands and Fi staggered, struggling to hold the weight, let alone attempt a swing.
Over by the caravan, the readied men were drawing lots to see who would get to ride a horse. With four total, one belonging to Reg and two required to pull the cart, only one remained for the men to squabble over. Paulie jumped for joy, holding the long stick in front of the other men's sullen faces. Dejected, they began their trek on foot, as Paulie stepped forward to mount his steed.
"So kind of you to lend me your horse, Paulie!" Beruka said, pulling herself up before him. Paulie opened his mouth but had no words. "You can jump on the caravan."
"But.. but... the cart's the bait isn't it?" He wailed.
"Aye, but every hook needs a wriggling worm." Beruka called back as her horse trotted off. Peter and Fi brought up the rear, Fi sniggering at Paulie's misfortune.
"Sucks mate." Peter patted his back. "But someone's got to do it."
The group set off, marching two by two through the thick marsh. The soldiers in front used their lances to clear a path through the bush large enough for the caravan to pass. Their destination was the manmade dirt trail along the western fringe of the marsh. The trail had been cleared out as a shortcut to Kertan, allowing merchants and traders to travel through the bog, bypassing the two day journey of having to go around.
At least, that was until the carts stopped showing up. Reports of a giant bullrush terrorizing travellers soon followed. These reports were initially thrown out as baseless gossip, but the stories kept coming in, and the carts kept not. Stepping through the last patch of deep mud, horses dragging the caravan through the muck, the group finally arrived at the clean-cut path. Wide enough to all huddle together, they stood along the trail taking in the sight before them with mounting dread.
"Keep it moving. We're sitting sheep just standing here." Beruka motioned, and the soldiers reluctantly followed, unable to take their eyes off the unholy mess before them. Splintered wood littered the ground as carts, literally torn apart, lay at several points along their path. Wrought iron pans and other cookware spilled out of an upturned wagon while fine silks soiled in the mud at the foot of another. Paulie was shaking in the seat of the caravan, snapping his head around at the slightest noise. The true shock, however, came when the group had to part slightly to avoid the torso of a man, rotting in the middle of the trail. Peter grimaced in distaste, wanting to hide the sight from Fi, but the little girl merely plugged her nose at the stench and walked on. It was the first body they found on the trail, but by no means would it be the last.
Several minutes passed in silence; their own footsteps the only source of comfort. A soldier jumped at the sound of a stick cracking underfoot. Two others raised their lances, wary that the noise might attract the beast. Peter stepped forward to catch up to Beruka leading the way with Reginald.
"They're not ready for this." He said.
"A little late for that now." Beruka snorted. "No matter. Just watch me Peter, I'll be more than a match for the beast."
It was Peter's turn to snort. "By all means, I'd sooner not lift a finger to be perfectly honest."
"When do you reckon it'll show its ugly mug?" She asked.
"Maybe it's frightened of our large group?" Peter offered hopefully.
"It's over there." Fi had jumped forward, pointing off the trail, towards a round lake.
"How do you figure?" Reg butted in.
"Animals are chattering around the rest of the marsh. They're so noisy. Over there, it's quiet." She responded. Reg regarded her quizzically, frowning at her long, perky ears on display for the world.
"Good enough for me." Beruka smiled, "Halt men! This way."
Taken aback by the sudden change in course, the men rushed to gather themselves as they stumbled from the hard dirt path to a lush field by the waterfront. The short grass was a vibrant green, sprouting out of the firm earth below. Cattails grew tall in the water's shallow, an array of lilies blooming blue deeper in. But the stunningly beautiful vista failed to capture even a single eye, as everyone was focused on either the thick treeline or the still surface of the lake.
"Steel yourselves men. It's time." Beruka called out.
Dismounting from her horse, she drew her halberd from its holster at her back. The men exchanged cautious looks. Some readied their lances as others nocked arrows; all confused in the silence that followed.
Fi crouched low, a hand pressed to the ground. "Here it comes." She whispered.
Paulie, face white, remained seated at the helm of the caravan, "Are you sure-?"
The bulge in the lake's center was their only signal. A torrent of water burst forth, showering the group before enveloping them in darkness. Peter took only a second to process the blackout, before he understood. He jerked his head skyward, to see a massive shape, blotting out the sun. With a devastating crash, the beast fell down to earth, behind them all, atop the caravan. Splintered wood flew in every direction; the men covering their faces against the shards. Paulie went flying as well. Somehow managing to grab hold of the reigns, he was yanked backwards by the weight of the horses, surely dislocating his arm. Only to be dragged across the ground as the terrified mounts fled for their lives. Finally letting go, he slid through the field, crumpling in a disheveled heap.
The bullrush was upon them. Even knowing beforehand what they were up against, Peter stood frozen before it. Towering over the group, the spherical bullrush stood fifteen feet high, twice the size of the crumpled caravan beneath it. Its skin was mottled green with razor sharp fins running along its spine. A thick tail, longer than Peter was tall, swayed dangerously at its back as its webbed feet struggled to grip onto the shattered pieces of wood. Most striking of all was the bone-white skull protruding from its face. Seemingly expanding so far as to rip through its own skin, the jagged skull ended in horned points, framing the monster's blood red eyes.
"Formations!" Reg roared to his troops, shaking in their boots. Nobody moved. The bullrush turned where it stood, slow steps crushing the cart beneath; its eyes examining the fresh prey that stood before it. The men backpedaled slowly, forming a semicircle to block the lake. Fi cautiously sidestepped towards Peter, not daring to take her eyes off the beast. Peter himself, remained in his position. Now frozen in thought, he let his hands sweat in anticipation.
The bullrush charged, lowering its head. Almost a gallop, the beast skipped low over the ground towards them. Shit, Peter thought, ready to produce a shield he wasn't sure would hold. Like a flash, Beruka sprinted ahead. Halberd in hand, she brought it down on the charging beast with a mighty swing. Steel met bone with a sharp crash and for a brief step in time it looked like she would break through. But the next moment found her sprawling across the ground, bucked off by the rampaging brute, and rolling over backwards. She dragged her fingers through the grass, regaining her footing; a deep scrape across her arm bled freely, unnoticed.
Beruka's advance allowed the soldiers to gather their wits. They widened the circle to fully surround the beast.
"Archers ready!" Reg called out, still atop his steed; the only one yet to bolt. "Staggered volleys, let's see it."
The men paired up in their circle; one back, bow in hand, his partner forward, extending a lance threateningly. Sounding off, they each in turn let loose an arrow. Around the circle they went, never shooting twice in a row. The bullrush twisted from side to side. Pivoting in the center of the ring, it did not know where to strike first. Fi clung to Peter's side, impressed with the soldiers' resolve. Whimpering as they were the whole way here, now that death stared them down, they had found their courage.
Yet courage would not be enough. The arrows glanced harmlessly off the bullrush's thick skin. Only one found purchase, embedding itself deep in its gut, but the monster was unfazed. Deciding to forgo the archers entirely, the bullrush instead turned its sights on its biggest target, Reg on his mount.
Fins folding down along its spine, the bullrush tucked its head and somersaulted into a roll. With alarming speed, it barreled forward, crushing the earth, tail whipping over as it spun. Reg had no time to move. The bullrush crashed into him. The horns of its skull gored his horse, flattening the poor animal under its weight with a sickening crunch. Reg was caught under it too. The horse taking the brunt of the impact, he was spared from an instant death. Instead, he lay gasping for air, pinned under the carcass of his steed. His breastplate was crushed into his chest, breaking his ribs and piercing his lungs. The men cried out for their captain, but there was no time to pull him free.
Veering at the water's edge, the beast was not done yet. Fi grabbed Peter and pulled him away as the bullrush rolled out once again. The soldiers scattered, their formation collapsing easily without their commander, none wanting to be in its path. One unfortunate man tripped in the channel the bullrush had left behind, his partner oblivious in his own escape. The beast honed in on him immediately. Its tail slammed against the ground, stopping its spin and allowing the monster to leap into the air. Its mouth opened wide, jagged yellow teeth framed a purple tongue wagging in anticipation. It landed down hard, sending tremors through the ground, closing its maw over the soldier, taking a huge chunk of the earth with him.
"Peter with me." Beruka, voice brisk, had recovered from her initial dash.
"Fi, wait here." Peter let go of the girl's hand, stepping forward.
The bullrush sat peacefully where it landed. Its jaws munching lazily as spurts of blood painted the air. The remaining soldiers abandoned their bows. Lances raised, they encircled the monster, giving it a wide berth.
"Oi! Ready for round two!" Beruka yelled up at the beast.
"How we doing this?" Peter asked behind her.
"Just like we wrote it up. You're my shield, and I'm your sword."
The bullrush made to roll out once again, but Beruka didn't give it a chance. Weapon in two hands, she again brought it crashing down on the beast's skull. Only this time she held her ground. Emboldened, the troops gathered round, lances up, striking at the beast from all sides. Trapped, the bullrush struggled against Beruka's might, her feet planted firmly in the ground. Lances pierced its sides as it let out a low rumble from deep within.
Suddenly, its tail swung round, taking out three soldiers all at once. They toppled over one another, the first man's torn stomach spilling his guts over the leather vests of his companions. With the new opening, the bullrush changed its footing and rose up on its hind legs to bring its full mass crashing down on Beruka.
Peter stepped in. Arms raised, he produced a strong bubble to block the blow. Suspended in the air for a second, the beast looked almost comical standing on two feet.
"It won't hold," Peter cried.
Beruka grabbed him around the waist and dove backwards as the bubble burst. The bullrush came down within inches of them, the force sending the soldiers reeling. Sitting helplessly on the ground with Peter in her arms, Beruka could only watch as the monster before her lunged forward, jaws open to consume its prey.
Fi landed hard, atop the bullrush's skull. Rushing forward, she had leapt high into the air, putting her full force into a powerful kick, forcing the beast's mouth shut. It slid along the ground, pushing against Beruka's boots with the front of its face. Fi ran along its spine, skirting around its spiked fins to jump down safely behind it. But the beast had her in the corner of its eye, whipping its tail back around. Fi leapt sideways to dodge, but the tip caught her leg, knocking her to the ground. Spinning around fully, its tail once again flailing so that no one could approach, the beast descended upon the downed girl as Fi helplessly shielded her head.
Eyes closed, Fi winced, cursing her clumsiness. But the attack did not come. She peeked through her arms to see a lone figure standing over her. Peter made it, she thought.
"Fi, get out of there!" Peter bellowed, pulling himself up from where he lay. Fi looked up at her saviour to find Paulie, grinning nervously in her direction.
"Not so.. not so useless now, am I?" He said smugly, teeth chattering. His legs trembled violently as his left arm dangled by his side. He had desperately run forward and somehow launched his lance at the beast. Miraculously, it had found its mark in the roof of the monster's mouth. Snapping its jaws violently, it could not extricate the spear holding its maw ajar. "Quickly now, before my chivalry is wasted."
"Thanks." Fi muttered. She meant to say more, but never got her chance.
The bullrush had had enough. A deep retching exploded from its throat. Mucus and bile came forth, burning through the wooden lance and baptising Paulie in yellow ooze. His screams cut through the air, as he fell to his knees. Sizzling welts formed across his face and skin before corroding inward, melting through flesh and bone alike.
Fi lay horror-struck. Her shield crumpled on the ground, silent, his screams ringing in her ears. The man was smiling just a second ago, and now he had no face. Shock held her motionless as the bullrush returned its sights to her.
Peter and Beruka sprang into action. The sight of Paulie had shook Peter to his core; but unlike Fi, he did not lose sight of the situation at hand. Beruka climbed up the beast from behind, following Fi's example, avoiding its fins. Peter circled around, a bubble ready in his palm, growing as he ran. He shoved it in the beast's face, distracting it, as he scooped Fi into his arms. With a loud pop, he heard the bubble tear behind him, but already he was away. Tch, he thought, still not right.
Her companions free, Beruka found the place where the beast's skull ended, and stabbed her halberd down, embedding the blue steel into the nape of its neck. The bullrush roared in pain. Contorting, tail flailing, it desperately tried to reach Beruka, now holding on for dear life. The beast rolled over, attempting to shake her off or crush her beneath, but she crouched low, sheltered against a spiked fin, still holding her halberd firm.
"Go now!" Peter yelled to the soldiers watching mesmerized, "While its gut is exposed."
They hastily charged forward, realizing their opening, and thrust their spears into the beast. Skewered on all sides, the roiling monster rained huge droplets of blood down over the men. Righting itself, crushing the shafts stuck in its belly, the bullrush tilted its head skyward and released a thunderous belch to the heavens.
"Get out of there!" Fi screamed, but the men did not need telling. Beruka struggled to dislodge her halberd. Finally yanking it free, she jumped to the ground. Landing with a thud, she fell to one knee, and bolted, trailing behind the men. They fled for their lives as the acid spray came storming down upon them.
Peter ran to receive them, thinking fast. Putting his hands together, he formed a large swath of bubbles, fighting for air as they grew. A soldier collapsed as a large gob hit his back, his body convulsing on the spot. Desperately sprinting, Peter brought both hands above his head, creating a vast umbrella of bubbles. The rain sizzled as it hit the umbrella's coat; musical popping joining the rainfall as the bubbles burst on contact. The remaining men frantically flung themselves to Peter's side, under the transparent cover, but Beruka was too far behind. Realizing she wouldn't make it, she stopped her manic escape, instead crouching into a ball on the floor, weapon and arms up, protecting her face and neck as the rain came down upon her.
Peter did not break pace. "We're getting her." He said. The men were forced to abruptly change direction, following the umbrella's cover. Two men bent down and grabbed Beruka, dragging her by the shoulders. The bubbles above had almost reached their limit. Peter tore across the field, forcing the soldiers to match him as the last bubbles burst.
They fell back outside the rainfall to where Fi waited anxiously. The men fretted over Beruka, motionless at their feet. Welts burned red on her arms and legs as the soldiers attempted to wipe her down. They looked to Peter for what to do next.
"You think she's alive?"
"We should run, right? While there's still some of us left."
"What about the monster, you think it survived the rain."
"Of course." Peter spat. The bullrush looked refreshed, if anything. The toxic bile coated its skin, seeping into its various wounds harmlessly. Ignoring the soldiers, Peter walked over to Fi, putting his hands on her shoulders.
"Hey, how you holding up?" He asked softly.
"I.. I'm fine.." Fi stammered.
"You got to pick yourself up. I got a plan, but I need your help."
Fi met his eye, "Will it work?"
"Of course." Peter smiled reassuringly, "My plans always work."
Fi exhaled, emptying her lungs. "What should I do?"
"Distraction," Peter said simply, "Need to do some quick maths. Think you can handle it?"
Fi nodded, filled with determination. The two turned to face the bullrush, waiting patiently for them.
"Oh and I'm going to need one of you lot to deliver the finishing blow." Peter said to the surviving soldiers behind him. "You'll know when."
Fi raced forward.
"Watch your step." Peter called out.
She stepped quickly over the field, damp with the monster's bile. The acrid smell invaded her nostrils but she pushed past it on her way to the beast. The bullrush regarded her with surprise; it had never had prey so eager to rush into its stomach. After the badgering it had put up with up until now, a quick meal was the least it deserved. Fi came near, the bullrush opening its mouth in anticipation, before she turned on a dime and dashed to the right.
The monster croaked in annoyance, chasing after her. Hopping in long strides, the beast nipped at her heels, Fi keeping just out of its reach. Every time it would get close, Fi would change course, even diving straight back under the beast's bounce, running in the opposite direction. Enraged, the bullrush broke out into a roll. This time, leaving its fins raised to cut through the earth. It quickly gained ground on Fi, sharp spikes threatening to rip her to shreds. She ran in a wide arc as fast as she could, no time to make a sharp turn now. Adrenaline kept her focused as she waited for the signal...
"Ready!" Peter called.
Without lifting her head she ran to his voice, panting hard. The bullrush unwound itself without breaking pace, webbed feet digging into the soil. Noticing the new target, it opted for the easier prey. Peter stood stationary, watching the rampaging monster approach, the little girl leading it along. Fi sprinted past him. The two caught each other's eye, and she was comforted by Peter's conviction.
He took a deep breath, eyes locked with the bullrush as it leaped into the air, its cavernous maw expanding to his entire field of vision. Just got to line it up, he thought, as he took a single step back, and clapped his hands together.
The bullrush devoured him; jaws ripping into the earth below. Planting its feet, it skidded across the field gnawing away happily. Fi's jaw dropped, unable to register what had occurred. What an idiot! What the hell is his plan? She thought.
The soldiers stared mortified. Their last hope consumed. "We have to leave, now! While it's occupied."
"What about the girl?"
"Forget the girl."
"How chivalrous." Beruka grumbled, causing the soldiers to jump. She sat up, wincing as blisters cracked across her back. "You're missing your cue." She pointed.
The bullrush hadn't moved an inch. Still chomping, its bites grew more and more vigorous, but it became apparent it had nothing in its mouth. Confused, the beast wagged its head around searching for the meal it had surely dropped.
Fi was the first to notice. As the beast searched, it struggled to lower its head due to a lump in its neck. She stared stunned as the lump swelled in size. The bullrush's eyes rolled in panic as its neck grew and grew, pushing against its skull and forcing its head skyward. Its feet rose from the earth as the swelling increased at a gargantuan rate; its skin stretched taught as its neck now rested on the ground.
"Quite the showman our friend is, eh?" Beruka said, at Fi's side.
"Ruka!" Fi cried, delighted to see her on her feet. She embraced her, then quickly recoiled as Beruka cringed in pain. "Sorry. Please get him out of there."
"With pleasure." She said.
Stepping gingerly, so as not to aggravate her wounds, she approached the bullrush, weapon in hand. The beast scrambled to flee, but its front legs flailed aimlessly in the air. It was all it could do to keep itself upright. Beruka reached the base of the beast and placed a swollen hand on its engorged flesh.
"You put up quite a fight, beastie. Enjoy your rest." She said. She raised her halberd, and in a massive arcing swing, brought it across the beast's throat, shredding the skin along an eight foot slash. A sanguine geyser erupted from the gaping wound. Collapsing sideways, the bullrush wheezed, suffocating as it bled out. The torrent spurted high over Beruka's head before dying down to a moderate fountain at her feet. It was only then, that a body slumped out and slid across the slick field.
Peter coughed, gasping for air, as he got to his feet. Beruka huddled to prop him up under her shoulder, ignoring her own pain.
"Took you long enough." Peter spluttered.
"That was one of the stupidest ideas I've ever seen work out." Beruka's laugh boomed across the field.
Peter grinned, eyes and mouth closed, due to the blood all over his face. "See, I'm not afraid to get a little wet."
Fi hopped around them, unable to contain her joy. She settled by saying, "I'd hug you both, but you guys are really gross."
The three turned back, to look upon their conquest. The bullrush took its time to die, its body twitching irregularly as blood still trickled from the gash Beruka had left. The points of its skull dug into the dirt, its eyes rolled back into its sagging head.
The marks of their battle were left across the entire field. Acid pits had burned through the grass in large patches, huge divots remained where the bullrush had rolled, and a pile of splintered wood lay where they had left their cart. The bodies of the fallen soldiers lay scattered amongst the mess, their blood pooling with that of the beast. By the lake's edge still lay commander Reg, trapped under his fallen horse. It was here that the remaining soldiers gathered.
Reg lay peacefully, his eyes closed. With no one to pull him free, he had passed away. His chest compressed under the weight of his horse, he simply ran out of breaths. The soldiers stood solemnly around their commander, heads bowed.
"Fuck the damn thing." One man cursed, "How was it so big?"
"Gills." Peter spoke softly, approaching the group.
"What?"
"The bullrush. While inside, I saw it still had gills." Peter wiped his face on his cloak, merely smearing the blood more, "A mutation I've never heard of. It must've lived underwater its whole life, outgrowing its predators. And when it finally came up on land, the entire marsh became its feasting grounds."
"Until today," Beruka murmured.
"Hear hear." The soldiers echoed.
A mud deer quietly stepped forth from beyond the treeline, poking its head into the open field. It watched, unblinking, as the humans sat exhausted at the water's edge and the bullrush drew its final breath. Without a sound, it turned and fled; eager to spread the word that the Kendite Marsh was safe once again.
Thanks for Reading!
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