Born a Monster

.....

The Hound said.

But then, the boars turned their noses up.

Said the leader.

The sow said.

"That’s right, you pox-ridden slabs of bacon! Boars can’t climb, what are you going to do about it?” the hound screamed.

Said the small one.

The small one and the sow placed their foreheads against the tree trunk, and pushed with their legs. It wasn’t an immediate effect, such as one might expect a troll to manage, but every time they heaved, there was a crack from the trunk, from the roots beneath it.

By the time it fell, the Hound was in another tree. We’d chosen that one for its easy escape routes, after all.

"Oh no.” Kismet said in her best theatrical shout. “Our food!”

The sow said.

The big one said.

the small one asked.

the sow said.

Corvina said.

Yaros asked.

the Hound asked.

he said.

the sow said.

the larger said.

the sow said.

the boar I would think of as King said.

But the King and Queen began their work upon the tree with two of the Hound’s men in it.

“You bastards!” the Hound screamed. “I’ll kill you. Mark my words.” He followed with the sort of colorful language I normally heard only from Madonna.

They ignored it.

the Queen said.

the Jack said, pausing only to urinate upon our remaining food. They dragged their prizes of the night off behind some brush and began eating noisily.

the Hound said,

Gamilla said.

Kismet sent.

Yaros sent.

Kismet said.

Gamilla said.

Corvina said, sharing her System message.

Kismet said, summoning a pale moon-glow to her hand.

“What are you DOING?” the Hound asked.

“I’m not climbing down this peg staircase in the dark.” she responded.

“We ought not to climb down at all.” Corvina said.

Gamilla hoisted Madonna onto her shoulder. “Madonna’s already running a fever. If it’s true that boars are gluttons and sleep after a meal, then it should be safe.”

There wasn’t room inside for all of us.

“I can survive outside in the rain.” I said. I had doubts that I could outrun the boars, but it was calming to hear my own voice say those words.

“I shall join him.” Corvina said.

“Yaros and I will take first watch.” Kismet said.

“Watches will be shorter if only one of us is awake.” Yaros said.

“Our crew doesn’t trust yours.” Gamilla said. “I, for one, want what little sleep this crappy night offers.”

“I want a better plan.” the Hound said. But for his words, he was asleep soon after Gamilla.

“You need to know.” Corvina told me. “I am bound by oaths. Once we heal from the battle with the boars, if we both survive, I mean to take you to the Talon.”

“I appreciate your honesty.” I said.

“You don’t need to patronize me.” she said.

“I am a Truthspeaker.” I said. “I literally cannot lie to you.”

She smiled. “In that case, I have questions.”

“I believe we can swap questions until we fall asleep.”

But oh, my, did she have questions. Whomever the Raven was, she saw the world the way Hortiluk did.

“Well, then. For my first question, I want to know who the Raven is.”

I may go into detail in an appendix, but the Raven was a title of Morrigan, one of a trinity of god-forms that... you know what? God stuff. People can and have written books on this. Morrigan was the mother form of a maiden-mother-crone triplet, three goddesses as one, except when they weren’t. Heroines in her service were Ravens, the heroes Crows.

And no, I cannot reveal what we spoke of that night, even today.

But I did notice that Corvina went into a lucid slumber afterward.

The order of the second day was healing potions, and soups that we could pour down the throats of the wounded. Keeping the fire lit was a task in and of itself, but somehow I managed it.

Between Kismet, Corvina, and I, the creation of potions was the easier task.

“What...” Madonna asked, “What did you make that out of, owl crap?”

“I concur.” Jaroslav said in Malosian. “Just let me sleep next time.”

“Rest, Jaro.” Yaros said, laying a hand on his brother’s forehead. It worked better than Slumber; I needed to learn how to do that.

“Blacksoul Madonna.” I asked. “How is your fire mana?”

“Depleted.” she said. “You think burning men by the dozens is EASY?” She looked at Corvina, then at the Hound. “Did we win?”

“Everyone lost.” Corvina said.

“Just tell me we aren’t on an island with pygmy cannibals.” Madonna said.

“Cannibal boars.” Kismet said. “They’ll be back tonight, and they can knock over trees.”

“This is my idiot husband’s doing, isn’t it?”

“Blame me if you want to.” I said.

“I don’t know why I expected better.” she said, and passed out.

I sighed. “Okay, let’s make it better.”

There weren’t many of the types of plants we could make spring traps from, and we didn’t have the rope we needed to drop things on the boars, but its amazing the amount of industry you could get out of four people (the others were off gathering food and reagents), even if one of them was the Hound.

We had bamboo spears, with laughable stone tips, not even sharpened, held in place by strands of plant fiber. Two of them. It wasn’t enough to turn the tide. Not even close.

.....

We took turns putting a few drops of blood under every tree. Combined with the mist Corvina could summon, that should confuse and delay them.

“I should mention,” she said, “That I can only summon the mist once a week.”

“That was something we needed to know earlier.” the Hound said.

“What is the state of your black powder?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It’s not reliable.” he said. “I give it a one in six chance of firing properly if I try it tonight.”

“If things go well,” I said, “we’ll... AWAUGH!” I clutched my bruised eye.

“Rhishi!” Kismet said.