Tiny Story #5.5

Holy jeez, it’s Friday already?! I nearly forgot… It’s been one of those days I guess. Anyway. Shall we continue?
BROTHERS: Part 2 of 2

Oliver climbed down the tree that grew alongside the house and dropped the last ten feet into the soft snow. He ran up the nearest slope until he was level with his mother’s window. He could see his father. His blade spun faster than Oliver could follow, but a crossbow bolt slammed into his right shoulder, and knocked him back into the room. The Captain looked once more out the window, and before the outlaws could stop him, plunged his blade into his wife’s heart. He turned to face the men once more. “You will not have her in this life.”

One of the men stepped forward, wearing a black tunic and brown woolen pants. He had a thick black beard and wore a plain half-helm with black iron-wrought wings along the sides. “Aye, she don’t need be alive, Captain,” he said with a cruel smile. “Aint that right, Paulo boy?”

Another man with the same black tunic stepped forward. He wore a black fur vest over the top and gray fur pants with gray fur boots. He wore an old bronze helmet that he must have stolen off some slain victim. “That’s the right of it, Sarge.” The men let out chuckles. “Just so long as they’re still warm’s good enough for the likes of us scum, ay Captain?” Captain Combe raised his sword with his left hand and parried several attacks, but they forced him back. Oliver turned and ran into the foothills, heading towards the mountain called Bhediya.

Another wolf howled and snapped Oliver back to the present. It was close. Somewhere just up the mountain. He twisted around and craned his neck, looking for a way up the rocky slopes… away from the wild animal. All he had was his father’s hunting knife. He wished he had thought to bring a bow. He knew the outlaws were just toying with him, but the sight of the rocky crags so close gave him hope. He pushed to his feet and within three steps was waist deep in snow again. He began to cry as he pushed through the heavy drifts. Oliver had to pull himself up onto the rocks when he reached the other side of the field. He looked up at the stony towers. They looked like rain-worn castles whose tops had been shorn off by some giant’s axe. They jutted into the sky like granite teeth. Rocks skittered down the slope somewhere to his right. Oliver went left and began climbing. He heard voices behind him, but still distant. He looked back and saw the men had abandoned their horses and were climbing over the rocks too. Oliver swore under his breath. A curse he had learned from one of the servants at his father’s estate. As he came to the peak of the mountain, he found it was only a false one. Before him was a small lake, frozen solid, and the true mountaintop towered high above the far shore. Gingerly at first, he made his way across. The slope on the other side was all scree and gravel, dotted with a legitimate boulder here and there, but as Oliver reached the foot of the slope he fell to his knees. It was too far. The slope was too long and they would be on him before he was halfway up. Their legs were almost twice as long as his, and their lungs twice as big. He began to sob. He didn’t know what else to do. Even his sobs were labored and sent knives down his throat with every breath. It was not long before Oliver heard their voices again. As he turned, blinking through tears, he saw the first one climb over the ridge on the other side of the frozen lake.

Oliver got to his feet and picked up stones, throwing them as far as he could. He ran up the slope a short distance, then turned and threw more stones. He had heard his father say something about “uphill is the upper hand,” but they had steel where he had only rocks. He threw more stones and whooped as one caught a bandit in the cheek and sent the man sprawling on the ice. Still, the others came on. When they reached the foot of the slope they stopped. They seemed to hesitate. A couple dropped their knives and swords and began to run back the way they had come, as others appeared to brace themselves. Oliver heard loose rocks skittering down the slope behind him and he turned, fearing an avalanche. But when he looked, there were no boulders bounding down the slope. Oliver was frozen. When he finally made to run back the way he had come, it was too late. They were on him before he could take three steps, then they were past, racing down the mountain like a black and white tide. The outlaws fled as wolves, seemingly innumerable came snarling out of the rocks. The wolves outnumbered them five to one. Oliver crouched and threw his hands over his head. He could hear them growling and barking as they ran past. His father had always said that wolves didn’t like the taste of highborn children because they were sour, but Oliver knew that was just to quell his fears of the night.

Olive chanced a peek just in time to see the last few animals fade into the rocks. He looked around wildly but he saw neither hide nor hair of the beasts of the mountain. The Bhediya was named for its inhabitants. But Oliver had never seen more than a few at one time. What he saw then must have been hundreds. And now they were just gone; all but one. A massive black creature with burning amber eyes. It stared at him. That gaze was unsettling, but not as much as the evil men had been. It loped toward him and he had his father’s hunting knife out before he knew. Oliver scrambled to his feet and waved the knife furiously, shouting and hollering curses for the animal to stay back. The wolf stopped and regarded Oliver for a moment. Then it just bounded off and seemed to fade into the rocks. Oliver looked around, perplexed.

He dropped to the ground. He was tired. His arms and legs ached and did not want to move another inch. Oliver jumped suddenly and screamed when the black wolf sat down next to him. He was afraid and embarrassed by his high-pitched wail. He slowed his breathing as he stared at the beast. It was just looking off to the horizon as he had been. With both of them sitting, the wolf was taller than he was. He was frightened, but the fear was quickly fading. It never looked at him, just gazed out over the mountains. So Oliver sat up a little straighter and did the same.

Tags: Tiny Stories