Don Bassingthwaite - The Binding Stone

There were no eyes behind the cowl. Black pits stared out of an emaciated face. The creature’s flesh was pale and hard, drawn close to its bones and muscles. Its ears flared broad from the sides of its head before narrowing to fine points. Strange, thick clumps of hair fell from its head to its shoulders and a light, shimmering fur seemed to cover its arms and a chest that was bare beneath the cloak. Long, thin tentacles that resembled nothing so much as unnatural tongues sprang from the flesh of its shoulders.

“Gatekeeper!” the creature roared again. “I know you hear me. There is only one thing we want here. Give us the kalashtar and we will leave your valley!”

Dandra shrank back in fear, but there was also relief on her face, as if she had almost been expecting something even worse to lie behind the cowl. Geth’s eyes darted from her to Adolan. “What is that thing?” he asked in disgust.

“A dolgaunt,” Adolan answered. “The Bull Hole felt its presence in the valley. It’s leader of the dolgrims. As foul as they are, it’s even worse.”

“Hruucan,” said Dandra softly. Adolan glanced at her. So did Geth and Singe. Dandra looked at them without meeting their gazes. “The dolgaunt-his name is Hruucan.”

Adolan’s expression was guarded. “This isn’t the first time you’ve encountered him?”

Dandra shook her head. The look in her eyes was so haunted that even Geth flinched back. Adolan blew out his breath. “Ring of Siberys.”

For a moment, conflict washed across Dandra’s face, then she blurted out. “If you want to avoid a fight, let me go. They’ve just spent a month following me. If I get out of the valley, maybe they’ll keep following me-”

Adolan turned a sharp glare on her. “No,” he said. The druid clenched his spear and stepped out from behind the stone.

“If she’s the one thing you want, dolgaunt,” he shouted back, “then I swear by the Three Dragons and the Twelve Moons that she’s the one thing you’ll never have!”

The druid’s defiance echoed across the valley. Behind Hruucan, the Bonetree hunters stirred angrily. The tall woman said something to the dolgaunt and raised the sword that she carried. Geth bared his teeth. Even with the protection of the Bull Hole, he flexed his hand instinctively inside the great-gauntlet. “Boar’s tusk!” he muttered at Adolan as he ducked back in among the stones. “Couldn’t think of a better way to get them angry, could you?”

But out in the clearing, Hruucan simply turned his back on the stone circle and lifted his hand, silencing the hunters. He leaned toward the tall woman and the lean man who had accompanied him out of the forest. Both nodded. Geth stared as the dolgaunt strode out of the clearing and vanished into the trees after the dolgrims.

The tall woman and the lean man began drifting among the hunters, whispering to them. Where they passed, the savage warriors stretched and readied their weapons, looking toward the Bull Hole with a violent glee in their eyes.

“Twelve bloody moons, what are they up to?” said Singe. He glanced at Dandra. She shook her head. The wizard looked to Geth and Adolan. “I thought you said the dolgaunt was the leader of the dolgrims, not the hunters!”

Adolan shook his head. “Dolgaunts are servants of the powers of Khyber. The cults of the Dragon Below revere all such aberrations as holy creatures.”

“Can we make a break for it while their numbers are low?”

“No,” Geth said. “We don’t know where the dolgrims have gone.” He studied the hunters, especially the man and woman. They seemed to be in charge now that Hruucan was gone. The woman kept glancing toward the Bull Hole, then back toward the hunters, as she paced back and forth across the clan’s line. “They’re waiting for something,” he guessed. “Maybe they’re expecting us to make a break.”

“Maybe,” agreed Dandra. The kalashtar was watching the hunters as well, her brow furrowed. Geth glanced at her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Maybe nothing.” She turned to Adolan. “You said the Bull Hole only saw unnatural things like the dolgrims. It couldn’t see the Bonetree hunters. It was created to protect against aberrations.”

The druid nodded.

Dandra gestured toward the tall woman. “The Bull Hole protected us from the dolgrims and Hruucan, but the hunters haven’t even tried to approach yet, have they?”

Adolan’s eyes narrowed, then went wide. “Ring of Siberys!”

Geth stared at him. “What?” he demanded. “What is it?”

“Humans and aberrations have never attacked the Bull Hole in concert before.” Adolan leaned against the stone, peering into the night. “I don’t know if the Bull Hole will protect us against humans or not!”

“This isn’t a good time to find out!” growled Geth. He reached across his body and pulled his sword from his sheath.

“It’s going to get worse!” Singe thrust an arm up toward the sky. “Look!” Geth, along with Adolan and Dandra, followed his gesture.

Up above the treetops in the direction of Bull Hollow, ruddy light lit the underside of a growing column of smoke.

“Grandfather Rat,” Geth breathed. Bull Hollow was burning. He knew where the dolgaunt and the dolgrims had gone.

The hunters saw the fire, too. As if it was the signal she had been waiting for, the tall woman thrust her sword high into the air and shouted, “Su Drumas!”

Savage, screaming battle cries made the night tremble. The hunters sprang to the attack. The Bull Hole’s defenses didn’t even slow them down.

Geth’s heart thundered in his chest. If they stood their ground, they would be trapped. “The Hollow, Ado!” he roared. “We have to get to the Hollow!”

“Just keep the hunters busy!” Adolan spun abruptly and raced back toward the center of the Bull Hole.

Geth bared his teeth and prayed the druid knew what he was doing. “Hold them back!” he shouted at Singe and Dandra. “Singe to the left, Dandra to the right!”

Roaring like Tiger, he hurled himself out from the circle of stones and directly at the massed heart of the Bonetree charge. A lithe little hunter with two long knives leaped out in front of the pack, faster than the other warriors. Geth’s sword darted forward, then swept to the side in a lethal arc.

The savage warrior ducked and rolled under it neatly, coming up inside the shifter’s guard with his knives slashing in a furious cascade of sharpened metal.

Geth’s right arm snapped in front of his body and the slashing knives grated harmlessly along the blackened plates of his great-gauntlet. High … low … outside … Geth caught every strike on his arm. A year’s wages as Singe had said, but worth it. Enhanced by an artificer’s magic, the armor sleeve was as effective as the heaviest shield. He took a fast step backward and cut in with his sword once more. The Bonetree warrior twisted to meet the blow-and Geth straightened his arm, bringing the gauntlet up and around in a brutal, heavy backhand. Driven by thick muscles, the ridge of his forearm came up under the warrior’s chin. Bone shattered and flesh, snagged by a spike, tore. The little warrior flew back a good three paces to slam into the ground. Geth turned sharply, arm outstretched, and another warrior went down, knocked off his feet by the momentum of his own charge.

Snarling, Geth turned and plowed into the nearest knot of warriors, swinging with sword and gauntlet. He heard Breek screech and caught a glimpse of the eagle, finally freed from the threat of arrows and bolts, beating into the sky toward the strange herons that circled overhead. To one side of him, Dandra’s spear flashed and sparkled in the moonlight as she traded blows with a hunter. The kalashtar’s feet had left the ground once more; she floated as she fought, skimming and turning with a fluid grace.