Jean Rabe - The Silver Stair

One of the hyena-men wielded a lengthy crude spear from which fluttered tattered strips of colorful silk. The one wearing the flag carried a dagger in each of his pawlike hands and had more strapped about his waist. The third was the most muscular of the lot. He waved a cutlass in the air and was the first to charge the boars.

The soothing effect of Gair's spell on the boars was shattered as the creature's cutlass bit deep into the side of the smallest male. The boar squealed sharply, so high it made the elf grit his teeth, and the other animals answered in a chorus of piercing squeals as they tried to flee from the clearing in all directions.

Goldmoon pressed herself into the loam as a female boar charged madly by, close enough so she and the elf could smell its rank breath. Gair inhaled sharply as another passed near enough to him to brush against his leg. He prayed that the hyena-men wouldn't follow and would be content with the boars that remained in the clearing. His fingers stretched toward the pommel of his sword, just in case, and his eyes drifted to Goldmoon, who was intently taking in what was transpiring.

Gair wanted to do something , but Goldmoon preferred to let everything run its course. He would respect his teacher's lead, which seemed to consist of, at the moment, doing nothing.

"What are those things?" he asked in a voice so soft he could barely hear himself. "Products of the Chaos War? Might they have overrun the Blood Sea Isles, and news hadn't yet reached here? And how did they make it from there to Schallsea Island?"

The one with the spear, the tallest of the hyena-men at well over seven feet, dropped to his knees in front of a fleeing boar and swung his weapon in a wide arc, whacking the beast in the snout and grunting in satisfaction. The animal paused, stunned for a moment, and the hyena-man took advantage of the opportunity, twirling his spear and jamming the tip down between the boar's shoulder blades. The strength of his thrust pushed the spear all the way through the boar and into the ground, pinning the animal as a collector might pin a butterfly. The animal's legs twitched a moment, then grew still.

"The one with the spear," Gair whispered. "Whoever attacked us on the trail used spears."

"And bows, you said," Goldmoon returned softly. "These creatures do not have bows."

Vaulting from the ground, the hyena-man howled and abandoned his spear, leaping at another fleeing boar. He wrapped his long arms about the beast's midsection and howled still louder. Gair watched in horror as the creature sank its teeth into the boar's side again and again, barking excitedly when the animal cried in terror and pain. The boar's stumpy legs churned over the earth, then waggled madly in the air as the hyenaman rolled to his back, clutching the boar to his stomach. It tried desperately to free itself, its squeals so shrill they sounded like a whistle. With one arm firmly around the animal's middle, the hyena-man lifted his free hand to the boar's head and wrenched it sharply, snapping its neck.

Goldmoon remained impassive, her eyes locked onto the other two creatures. The hyena-man with the daggers was astride the large old boar, riding it as a man might ride an unbroken horse. He was jabbing the twin daggers into its sides, his flag cape billowing behind him like a sail. The boar was so large that the blades hadn't yet found a vital mark, though they obviously had caused the animal considerable pain. It was doing its best to dislodge the hyena-man, its head thrashing from side to side in an attempt to gore its tormentor's arms and throw him. The hyena-man locked his legs tighter and stabbed repeatedly. He let loose a string of hideous-sounding growls and snarls, and as if in response, the hyena-man with the cutlass backed away from the one he'd just slain and ran toward the gyrating old boar.

Unable to expel the tormentor on its back, the old boar angrily charged the third hyena-man. Its feet pounded over the ground, sending a shower of nuts and snow and dirt in its wake. It lowered its head beneath the swing of the cutlass and drove forward, its tusks sinking into a green-gray thigh as it barreled into the hyena-man and drove him to his back. The boar continued its assault, trampling over the creature's stomach and goring his chest. It thundered over the body and spun, returning to gore the downed hyenaman once more.

All the while, the creature on its back continued to plunge the daggers into the boar's sides. The hyenaman looked like a fat bird, his arms rising and falling rhythmically like wings, blood arcing away with each sweep.

On its third goring pass over the fallen hyena-man, the boar let out a long wail that drowned out the wind and the squeals of the rest of the boars, who were escaping from the clearing. It stopped and snorted, shook its great head, then shuddered and collapsed. Its bloodied rider threw back his snout, howling to the sky. Finally the creature pushed himself off the dead giant's twitching body and glanced about.

Snorting and barking, the hyena-man thrust the daggers into sheaths on his hips, bent, and tugged at the great boar's body. The muscles under his green-gray skin rippling, he managed to pull the massive carcass. He snapped and growled at the hyena-man with the spear.

In response, the other dropped the spear and reached to his side, tugged free a length of thick twine, and fell to lashing the three smaller boar carcasses together. Finished, he shuffled toward his downed companion and sniffed.

The gored hyena-man made a whimpering sound and placed his pawlike hands over his stomach and chest, as if that might block the flow of blood. He struggled to get up, looking to the one standing over him for help. All he received was a snarl and several hard kicks in the ribs to finish him.

The hyena-man bent to retrieve his companion's cutlass. He tugged the scabbard free from the downed creature's waist and quickly strapped it on. Proudly brandishing the weapon, he turned and joined his barrel-chested fellow with the flag. Together, the two pulled the dead boars from the clearing.

Goldmoon and Gair lay silent for many long minutes, feeling the cold of the ground and the air and listening intently. The snow was falling faster now, wetting their hair and faces.

The elf studied Goldmoon and determined she had cast a spell, no doubt one that was extending her senses into the plants or animals nearby, wanting to know where the hyena-men were heading. He could effect such magic, too, but he was content to rely on his teacher's findings and save his energy. At last her expression relaxed.

"Gone?"

She nodded. "They're far enough away now. And I don't think they'll come back."

Gair was on his feet quickly, still favoring his leg. He brushed the snow from his shirt and extended a hand to assist Goldmoon. She was slow to rise and worked a cramp out of her calf before she edged by the elf and padded into the clearing.

Small pools of blood dotted the ground, and the earth was churned up from the great boar's feet. She threaded her way to the hyena-man and knelt by the body.

"One of the pilgrims mentioned rumors of dog-faced raiders who were attacking hunters and trappers," Goldmoon began.

"And maybe attacking people on the trail to the settlement."

"I thought the story was a product of too much ale. I should have given the tale more credence, perhaps."

Gair bent over her shoulder. "I would say someone who saw a creature like this could be driven to drink. I wish his companions would have left him alive, though. I would've liked to question him if I could have found some way to understand him. I want to know if these were the creatures who attacked us a few days ago. I wonder where he came from. I don't think he's native to Schallsea. The one with the cape-"

"It was a flag from Kothas or Mithas."