Two

Chapter 2

 

 Robin rode away from the danger, away from the woods and trees that stretched far across the landscape, the howls of the wolves behind called for his blood. His white horse was pushed faster, by both the howls and the heels dug into its sides. The emerald green robes billowed behind as the wind whipped across his face, his bright green eyes shone in the rain water.

 Robin looked over his shoulder; he saw the wolves gaining on him. Large black beasts, their strong paws pounded the earth and sprayed water behind. Robin kicked the horse’s ribs and found a sudden burst of speed; he looked to the horizon and saw a trench made from the collapsed mine dug by the ancient minors of Thistle, he leant over and whispered in his horse’s ear. A determined look came over his rough face; the scars twisted his smug mouth. Together they jumped, over the trench and the wolves stopped behind with a skid. Robin watched as the ground grew closer, and he felt the front legs of his horse buckle and give way. They both landed on the grass with a thud, Robin felt his horse tumble over him, skimming his greasy black hair as it went.

 The blurry world came into focus; across the trench the wolves prowled the line ready for their prey. Robin stumbled to his feet and felt a pain in his right knee. He gripped the hilt of his sword and turned to watch his horse laying feet from him, unable to stand from a broken leg. A growl came from the gnashing teeth of the wolves behind, he turned and watched as their leader’s skin seem to tear, his fur malted and fell the ground. The wolf grew in size and his paws turned to hands, the transformation seemed agonizing as the wolf screamed and howled at the flesh being torn from its body. Eventually a man stood before Robin, naked and covered in blood.

 “You’ll never catch me Marcus,” Robin stared into the steely gaze from the man.

 “Oh I’ll get you,” Marcus barked, “I’ll get you, and I’ll rip the flesh from your bones.” Robin drew his sword and pointed it at Marcus, though they were ten feet apart, separated by the trench below.

 “You want me? Come and get me.” The man curled up his mouth, his sharp teeth were revealed, gnashing and dripping with saliva like the animal he once was. He stalked the trench, up and down he paced. Eventually he gave up, snapped his teeth and turned. Marcus and his wolves turned and walked away leaving Robin standing his ground.

 When he could no longer see them, Robin massaged his knee to ease the pain. He limped over to his horse and drove his sword through its throat. He wiped the blood on his knee before sheathing his blade. He left the beast lying on the soft grass and walked away toward Thistle, a small town reliant upon its mining industry and quarrying merchants.

 Robin instantly made an impression, his dirty robes and dishevelled look turned heads, his weapon was the main focus. Not many citizens carried a weapon, only travellers or the outlaws. He walked down the pathway and stopped at a tavern.

 “What will it be stranger?” The barwoman asked leaning over the counter and revealing her large breasts to the world, though Robin’s gaze never strayed from her eyes, her hard make up cracking her skin around them.

 “Tankard of ale,” Robin took a seat on a stool at the counter, the room was quiet and Robin’s ears were alert. He rearranged his robe to get a clear view of his coin purse and sword and never let his eyes falter; they stared straight ahead, never looking down to his poison. As he drank the memories faded, eight tankards later and his eyes finally moved. Eleven later and he began to sway. Sixteen and his vision had become blurry, his eyelids were heavy and he was shown the door.

 A few weary paces down the street; he found an inn where he stayed the night.

 

*

 

 Prince Kai stood on a balcony looking over his soon to be inherited land. His father, the king, was at war in the north; his father was battling the giants and keeping them at bay. The king had been there for two years, the giants claim to have been getting revenge for their fallen father, Ymir.

 Prince Kai sighed; he wondered whether his father will survive the war against the giants. He had heard tales of their ferociousness and brutality, as tall as mountains and with them they brought the snow and the ice and the wind. Kai looked to the grass below and shook his head. This was soon to be his land and he wasn’t ready. He had barely hit manhood.

 His inherited land of Raine was beautiful. Green grass spread as wide as the eye could see. Raine was given its name from the showers they would have during the sunshine, producing a rainbow that arched over the sky. The people of Raine were simple folk, easy going, and well mannered. The idea of war and battle would not impress, though that is not saying that the kingdom of Raine does not have soldiers who are well trained and are able to fight, but his people were peaceful.

 Kai combed his blonde hair out of his face and looked to the skies, a streak of red shot across the clouds. Blood had been spilled during the night; part of the blood was the trolls. He never did like killing, to take a life was not proper but sometimes it’s a necessary action.

 He felt himself exhale the grief and stress of life, he wished his mother was still here, she died when Kai when young, only twelve, and she was his pillar, his strength. She spurred him on when the clouds were at their blackest. But sickness took her. Times over the world seemed to grow darker over the recent years. The giants were rebelling; there were attacks on villages and towns all over Raine. Beasts and fiends seem to be growing in number and the temptation of chaos appeared to be too strong to resist.

 Kai prayed to Odin to watch over his father and prayed that the Valkyries may not claim his soul yet, but return him safe to his kingdom.

 

*

 

 Robin woke, his bloodshot eyes strained against the streak of moonlight squeezing its way through the shutters of his window of the inn. He heard a scream from outside and sat bolt upright with a hand already on the hilt of his sword. He ran to the window and pulled the shutters open. People were running in all directions, brave men would run the opposite way to defend their village. Robin ran to the door and yanked it open, he ran down the stairs and out into the street.

 He turned his head and saw a pair of fangs attacking his throat; Robin turned and thrust his blade through his attacker’s ribs. He kicked off the creature and watched it writhe on the ground in pain; it was pale, extremely pale, almost a tinge of pale blue. Its white eyes glowed in the moonlight, those long fangs gnashed and hissed at Robin; finally it got onto its claw like hands and feet, it had a long torso with the ridges of its spine looking like spear heads. It pounced again. Robin slashed his sword through its neck and watched as the creature’s head rolled away. The body still twitched in the dirt.

 Robin looked at his blade; the surface was covered in black blood. He stopped a woman running past who screamed in his grasp.

 “Where are they? Where are they coming from?” Robin had to shout for her to hear; the woman still sobbed and whined but pointed a shaky finger to behind Robin.

 “Thank you, now go, go!” He pushed her away from him and ran toward the Night Fiends. He saw them, pouring in from a large well. They streamed out in numbers, too many for Robin to handle, but he found himself backed by men, twenty men stood tall against their enemy. Robin looked up and down the line and nodded his admiration of their bravery and vowed to defend them.

 The first attacked, Robin turned and cut them down. Each falling to his blade spattered blood over his robes, but he found his rhythm, he found his tune and he played along. He fought hard and fast against the onslaught of Night Fiends, the vampires, the parasites that feed on the flesh of humans and other creatures alike. Their black blood poured on the grass but so did Robin’s comrades, he looked down his line once more and his line of twenty men had fallen to six. Six men and the Night Fiends were still coming. He had to fall back, to think smart. He glanced around before defending himself once more against another pair of fangs.

 He had to block the well. Robin knew what they feared, light. He saw a torch nearby and a carriage of hay. He lit the hay and began to push; a few men caught on and pushed the cart with him. The Night Fiends wouldn’t approach them become their skin burned at the fire’s light. They crashed the cart into the well and watched the fire fall into the darkness. The vampires stopped coming. The Night Fiends running through the village were killed and the well was blocked. Robin looked into the pits of the fire and flashed of his past made him wince. A distant scream rang in his ears and he had to turn away.

 He rubbed his stubble and looked for the nearest open tavern.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A fast pace tale. I like the set-up of battles. I like the way you are setting up a war and trying to get one man to safety. I like the fight and the escape. A excellent chapter.
Coyote

[Octob3r Star]

You're a really good story writer. I'm eating popcorn playing this out in my head, ha ha. : )