Barry Sadler - God Of Death

Taking a deep breath, he came back at Casca, the great axe smashing against the lighter buckler. Then the axe whirled again, and Casca was forced back under the weight of the blow. Casca and Malgak locked together, face to face, bodies straining. The sour smell of Malgak's breath seemed to have a carrion stench to it; the raw meat he had eaten was rotting between his teeth. Malgak struck Casca to the ground with a smashing blow from his shield and raised the axe to split his skull. Casca quickly hooked his foot behind the knee of Malgak, and with his other foot striking the front of Malgak's ankle while the one behind came forward, he threw the childkiller back and down. Now Casca rose, his gladius Iberius the famed Roman short sword flashing as he struck and chopped, trying to beat down the shield guard. But Malgak regained his feet. Dammit. The son-of-a-bitch may be ugly, but he is as strong as any I have met. They closed again, sword against axe, shield against buckler. They whirled and fought, sparks leaping from the blades. They cursed and sweated. The red glow of the fire gave each a demonic appearance. They neared the door, and the Marcomanni rushed out to stab Casca in the back. He was aided in this effort by two other men who fell quickly to well-placed arrows. A shout from Glam warned Casca, and he twisted his body around and fairly leaped into the air, turning into a tumbler's type roll and landing back on his feet. The Marcomanni stood there, an embarrassed look on his face. He still looked that way when Casca threw the sword straight into his stomach where it exited about six inches out of his back, severing the spinal cord.

Malgak screamed in glee. His man was defenseless now without his sword. Malgak rushed. Casca knelt, taking his arm out of the buckler. As Malgak raced to him he held the buckler like the discus throwers of Greece and let fly from the kneeling position. The round steel buckler spun through the air and smashed edgewise on Malgak's right shin, breaking the leg clean, leaving a three-inch-deep gash through which bone splinters were clearly visible. But even as Malgak fell he tried to cut Casca down by lunging forward.

Casca was not there.

Malgak pulled himself to his good knee, black teeth showing as he sucked air in. He shouted at Casca:

"Come to me! I can't come to you. Come to me, and let me give you a kiss." He brandished the axe.

"As you wish it," Casca said and moved closer, circling as Malgak did the same, keeping his weapon facing Casca. Fingers spread, bent slightly over from the waist, Casca moved forward. Malgak swung a blow that would have split his target in two, but again Casca was not there. Malgak tried to raise the axe again and could not. Pain from his leg was beginning to blur his vision. Casca seemed to come from nowhere; the smashing blow of his fist into Malgak's face sent the outcast to the floor, the axe falling from his hand, the shield flying across the room. Casca picked up the fallen axe of Malgak and stood over him, holding the weapon close by the head, the long shaft with the leather thong dangling. He grabbed Malgak by his long, greasy hair and twisted the ugly face up to where he could get a good look at him. Cruelty and animal bestiality was all he saw.

Dark, deep hate settled on Casca. His breath came short and rapid. His heart pounded. His face flushed with anger. He said in judgment:

"You and your beasts dare to come here and kill my people, the people of Lida? I know you. I have seen your kind everywhere, from Persia to Britannia. You are killers for no reason but pleasure, so I will not deny you the pleasure of your own death being too slow but it will still be more merciful than you would have shown us."

Jerking the head, he snapped a sharp kick with his toe into the solar plexus of Malgak. The black-toothed mouth gaped open trying to breathe.

"Here," said Casca, "here is your axe, barbarian. Then you should have it with you always."

With that, Casca drove the leather-thonged end of the axe down into the open mouth. Malgak choked as the handle was forced past his esophagus. His thoracic muscles moved in spasmodic involuntary actions trying to do the impossible and regurgitate the wooden shaft back up out of his throat. Casca pushed deeper, holding the axe in and twisting. Malgak's face turned as black as his teeth, and he died without the death rattle.

The handle of the axe was so snug that not even his death breath could escape. He died eyes wide, unbelieving.

His men witnessed the death of their leader and slammed the oak door shut, bolting it from the inside. They wanted no more.

Casca rose from the body of Malgak and turned to where Glam had come near him.

"Get him and his filth out of Lida's home," he said.

Weary, drained emotionally by the fight, he walked up the stairs, not noticing the looks given him by his young warriors. Old Glam was right; the Lord of the Keep was not as other men he was more.

Glam carried out his lord's orders. Taking a page from the scene that had transpired earlier, Glam had more containers of oil thrown into the hallway from the upper ramp. To help the fire along he had more armfuls of straw thrown in. It was soon over. When the first gray light of the new day rose, the warriors of Casca carried the bodies of the raiders to the beach where they were taken out in small boats and dumped in the sea to feed the crabs. That some of the raiders might not be quite dead hindered their labors not at all; they just made more bubbles. The next day the young men and warriors from the countryside showed up ready for action. They had found the body of the young child whom Malgak had used so badly and had come ready for battle. Glam ordered the household cleansed and their dead buried. He ordered that none should speak of this day unless the lord first brought up the subject. All was as before. The warmer days were coming.

Each day the indicators of the coming spring became more pronounced, and work on the expedition quickened. The young warriors sharpened their weapons, honing the edges ever finer. Old Corio, the shipbuilder whom Casca had brought to his keep, fussed over the two longships that they would take. Like an old hen over her chicks, Corio clucked and scolded, testing every line and seam in the ships he had built for Casca. The ships themselves were a blending of the Roman galleys less the ram and the long, shallow draft vessels the local inhabitants used for fishing and commerce. The local vessels used no sails. When Casca had first come to this rockbound coast, he had been quick to realize the value of the sea lanes. The man who could use them more efficiently would prosper, and so would his people. Making use of his many years as a slave on the Roman war galleys, Casca set about to exploit the sea's potential. He bought old Corio the ship builder from a Tedesci chieftain inland who had no use for a shipbuilder. Between the two of them, Casca and Corio, they had designed this mixture of galley and sailing ship. Their new vessel could slide through the waves as light as a sea nymph.

The way the new design came about was unusual.

Casca had spent many hours on the coast watching his favorite animals at play, the flashing and twisting sea otters. He had noticed how they turned and twisted their bodies to slide more easily through the rough waters. He had remarked to Corio that if a ship could do the same, it would have a much better chance for survival in rough seas. Corio, then not so old, thought on the problem for weeks. Finally he had the answer. He made use of an ingenious system of interlocking planks that, even when they moved and twisted, still remained water tight. They built the vessel. It worked. They named it the Lida. Sure enough, on her maiden voyage, the Lida slipped like one of the sea otters she was modeled after between the rough ocean troughs and rose swiftly over the peaks of the waves, answering her master's desires quickly and with a feeling of expectancy. Indeed, thought Casca, ships seem to be more alive than anything else man has created. The wind, humming through the Lida's rigging, appeared to agree with him.