Next to The Custard
Created | Updated Jul 30, 2003
Times change. Sometimes it takes years to notice the change. Sometimes one night makes all the difference.
The following account is taken from historical records.
Episode Twenty-Eight – Rally Point
There was a playing card under Tid's nose. He couldn't move his arm to shift it, because that was under a body, and moving the body might attract more attention from the Beast, which would definitely attract another flurry of arrows.
This wasn't a conscious deliberation. Fear had long since taken the reins from logic. Fear had probably long since thrown logic off the wagon, too, and, since Tid was alive, he presumed it was doing a pretty good job doing the steering.
He stayed low, and quiet, until the roaring seemed to pass by. Then he tried to get up, but the body was heavier than he'd thought. It was starting to smell. Well, of course, Tid realised: it had soiled itself. Bodies did that, didn't they? One of the good reasons not to stay under them... he heaved himself up. Something snapped above him, he didn't know what, but he could pick himself up now.
The Beast was still in sight, he could see its silhouette in the firelight. There was no missing something three men tall. It was further east now. Somewhere under the sound of its roar Tid could hear the rain of arrows continuing, and the screams of more hapless victims of casual carelessness. How difficult could it be to hit something so big? Tid wondered.
Leg, he thought. Cus, Far. Sunder. The Sword. Where were they?
Logic still hadn't got back to the wagons, so Tid did the simple fearful thing. Look. See. The Sword had been somewhere in front of him, to the left, somewhere behind the Beast. There!
Tid stumbled towards it, tripped over another body, hidden in the dark. All four of them were there. Sunder had arrows in his back and leg, and was bloodied front and back; Leg has one in his throat.
Feth how times changed. Not ten minutes ago they'd been playing cards. Why hadn't they gone to the Sword earlier, before people started firing arrows? And why...?
Logic suddenly kicked in. Why hadn't the Beast gone for the Sword?
The Beast was moving towards the fortress of Rene Ponit. Behind it was a wake of corpses and screaming bodies. Somewhere past it was Wall One, where many Kingdom soldiers were camped... firing fire arrows. On Wall Two, more torches. More spectators. The siege had come to a standstill.
Tid looked around. The Kingdom camp was immense, ten thousand men had camped here when the siege began, and not all of them were behind Wall One. The rest were... the rest were running. North, south, west, away, whichever way that happened to be.
He heard a grunt, and saw Far move his arm. Gently he reached forward and took the arm, helping his friend up – only to see him collapse again, dead. There were arrows in his back. Grunting behind him, trying to stand up, was Cus, who fell over.
'Sword,' said Cus.
'It's here,' said Tid, kneeling down, digging his fingers into the ground below Cus's shoulder to help him get upright.
'Pull it!' Cus said, gasping at 45 degrees.
'I'm getting' you up first!' Tid said. 'Sword can wait. Beast's not interested in it.'
'I fething am!' Cus said, reaching his arm up, trying to clutch at the Stone behind him, but he was too far. Tid eased him into a vertical position, then moved around to try and get him standing again.
'AAaaaargh!' Cus shouted. The roar in the background paused for a moment, and Tid quickly slapped his hand over Cus's mouth.
'Quiet!' he whispered, then cried out – marginally more quietly. His hand was in pain - Cus had bitten his fingers – and then Cus started to fall again. Tid ducked down, trying to catch his friend.
'Just get the fething sword!' Cus said.
'It's going that way. It'll get the Kingdom bastards first. I draw that thing, it'll come this way!'
Cus turned his head and looked at Tid, his face a mixture of anger and disappointment. 'What kind of answer is that? Of course it'll bloody come this way! Then we kill it!'
Cus didn't wait for an answer. He scrabbled his hands up again, then down to the dirt, and dragged his weight forward. Then he clutched to the sides of the Stone and, hugging at it, heaved himself upward. His leg was twisted at the knee, and the joint looked sore, and Cus's teeth were clenched. He scrambled to push himself upward, and then -
The Stone fell over, taking Cus with it. Suddenly he was on top of it, and he rolled off, arms flat out at each side, the twisted leg under the good one. He cried out. Tid watched for the huge silhouette again, and heard no change in the pace of the Beast. There was a lot of crying all around, he heard, and more beginning.
Cus dug his right elbow into the earth, and swung his left arm over to his right side, moving his weight against his legs. Tid moved forward, carefully taking hold of Cus's good leg enough to move it off the bad leg, so he could restore that.
Then he saw the light. Cus had reached the Sword.
Bright light blinded his vision. He didn't hear the pause in far away earth-rumbling footsteps. He couldn't smell the fresh blood from Cus's leg anymore. He couldn't feel the cold night any more.
The Sword's light was warm. He could hear the rasping as Cus was drawing it out, inch by inch, grasping it by the blade, since he couldn't pull it out in full, he didn't have the reach. Slowly it slid from the Stone, from its millennium-long resting place.
Then darkness, just as blinding, swamped his vision as the Sword was dropped, and in the one flitting moment of light he saw the Beast before him in all it's height, one large foot where Cus's head had been.
In Tid's arms, the twisted leg had been completely healed, but now it was limp.
We should have grabbed the Sword earlier, he thought.
'RRROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!'
Fear must've grabbed at the reins again, bullying Tid's vision into use again. He was still kneeling beside the Stone. Cus's body, or what remained of it, was still sprawled in front of him.
The Beast was still there, but it hadn't attacked him.
The Sword was on the floor, fully drawn, unbloodied, with no visible wielder.
The two seemed to not be connected. The Sword hadn't killed the Beast. What had?
'Hiyaaah!' cried another voice, some effort behind it, and nearby. Tid couldn't place the exact location. The Beast began to topple, sideways. Ten feet of hulk, horns and claws collapsed to its side, revealing a much smaller man behind it, trying to pull something from its back as it fell.
Tid regained the presence of mind to breathe.
'Good evening,' said the man. There were more men behind him. One moved to take a look at Tid himself. A few moved to inspect the dead Beast. Most moved towards the Sword, but they did not touch it. They left that to the first man.
'Who are you, my friend?' asked the first man.
'Tid, sir,' said Tid. 'Tidocaziwena, sir.'
'Tidocaz, I am Minister Setovarinesa. It's strange to see an Aisorbmii out here, in the Kingdom camp. Were you a captive?'
Tid looked at the man, who must've somehow read his expression and decided to stop pushing. 'My sword was magical. Blessed at Rene Ponit itself. Very rare. They were invisible to magic searches, and render their users undetectable in the same way. And it looks like it could kill big things like this, too.'
Was, were, could? 'Could?' Tid asked.
'Gone,' said someone. Set just plunged it into his back, and it's gone.'
'Rene Ponit?' Tid asked.
'The Aisorbmii are still on Wall Two,' said the Minister. 'But there are passages. We saw the Beast, and we saw the Swordlight shining behind it, and we knew someone had reached the Sword. So some of us came. Not too many, mind. Despite the obvious danger there's still a battle going on around here, we didn't want to draw attention to the tunnel or leave too few men behind. And I can see... you've had a rough night. Lost several friends. I imagine everything I've said has just completely washed over your ears. Det, Bur, don't just stand there, help him up. Get him back to Wall Four, keep him safe. Gad...' he trailed off.
The Beast was changing shape, shrinking... more than that Tid couldn't distinguish. It was blurring, into something humanoid... all apart from its missing head. It was naked, too, and Tid could only guess it was male from the chest. The, err, lower regions were gone.
'Rest in peace,' said the Minister, holding his sword over the body. Tid stared at it. The skin was stretched and wrinkled, and blacker in hue, and really beginning to stink, easily blotting out the stench of Cus, and Far, and Leg, and Sunder, and the others... there were lots of them.
Setovarinesa picked up the Sword. It began to glow again, its light merely illuminating the area now. He turned back to Rene Ponit, and walked towards the fortress. Two others, Det and Bur maybe, whoever they were, moved in to try and bring Tid to his feet.
The Minister swung the Sword in a figure eight, and pointed it at the sky. It had a musical lilt to it as it swung, an airy whistle, but toned like a flute.
He could hear voices. Chants, cheers. The sound of swords clashing, and shields.
'The Aisorbmii are rising,' he said. 'They're descending Wall Two. They're attacking the Kingdom!'
Tid could only see the flames on the fortress walls, some falling, the two lines blurring together, and the cries ringing out again. But he could cheer them on.'
'Aisorbma!' he called.
'Aisorbma,' spat someone else. Tid topped as whoever was supporting his right turned around and then fell. Whoever supported his left got a blade in his ear, then fought to wrench it out as the bodies fell. Tid, who'd been holding their shoulders but swinging below their necklines, ankles on the floor, lived to see the new attacker ram his blade into his gut.
After all that, he thought. Killed by the Kingdom General himself.
In the darkest hour, battle resumed at Rene Ponit. Their morale raised by the Sword's presence, the Aisorbmii retook Wall One.
Deep behind enemy lines, Setovarinesa, Aisorbmii Minister and wielder of the Sword in the Stone, prepared his blade for Manus iw Elbirt, High General of the Kingdom armies.
For the first time, the Aisorbmii took advantage in the War.
The story continues. The Great Duel approaches. Two more Beasts, and their foul masters, remain.
Times do change. Sometimes it takes years to notice the change. Sometimes one night makes all the difference.
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