Page 12 of The Book of Korum


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  It was well into the early hours of the morning. The air had chilled noticeably as the dawn approached while mist had already begun to settle peacefully next to the earth. Over the far horizon, the twin moons had halfway completed their descent. The sounds of the forest had quieted considerably, giving the awake Hal a welcome sense of lull and tranquility.

  With his back leaned against a large red pine and his axe resting loosely in his large hands, Hal let his gaze and his senses expand out into the fast fading night. He had readily volunteered to take the first watch and, after seeing the both of his friends fall directly to sleep after rolling up in their cloaks on the ground, decided to make it the full watch. He didn't mind. He had pulled many all-nighters in his time and consequently had little need for sleep.

  Abruptly he yawned, his jaw creaking at the joints. Well, little need for very much sleep, Hal mentally amended with a wry grin.

  It felt good to be out in the wild again, Hal decided. He had lived in the keep with Aeros for almost three years. Without a doubt, they were the three best years of his life and he hoped beyond all hope to one day return there. But even so, it did feel good to be back out in the world, away from it all. Which is only natural, Hal assumed, seeing as how he had spent the majority of his still young life on his own in the forests of the world.

  Closing his eyes and concentrating, Hal heard the sounds of the night leaping from their distant hiding places to his ears. The song of an early bird chirping to its young, preparing them for their flight to warmer climates. The burbling sound of a small river or tributary off in the distance. The very air itself, whistling through the branches and between the trees.

  Opening his eyes, Hal found his gaze automatically upon Lady Tasha's slender, gently slumbering form. He saw the way she squeezed her eyes shut and flinched every few moments and assumed that she was having a bad dream. Hal wished that there was some way that he could soothe or comfort her without waking her up and then feeling tremendously foolish.

  If wishes were fishes, he mentally quoted, then stumbled as he tried to finish it off correctly. The world would be... full of fish.

  Hal was suddenly very glad he hadn't tried to voice that rather brilliant comment.

  Still, he was unable to stop watching Tasha as she shifted uncomfortably in her sleep. Oh, how he wanted to... What? he asked himself sarcastically. Take her up in your arms and tell her that it'll all be okay... that you'll always be there to protect her? He shook his head ruefully. Then, after she laughed in your face, you'd probably make some stupid comment or stutter like an... an oaf, for a while.

  Hal shook his head and tried to forestall the headache he felt coming on. I really gotta stop talking to myself.

  There was suddenly something wrong. Hal blinked his eyes to clear away the fuzziness he was experiencing. He had heard or seen nothing out of the ordinary... yet there was an unusual scent in the air. Slowly, Hal pushed away from the tree and up to his feet, hefting his axe. Turning in the direction of the feeling, Hal felt the hackles on the back of his neck rising up.

  Over in the underbrush he saw a slitted pair of large golden eyes glowing back at him. Hal sniffed subtly at the air, trying to determine what was familiar in the creature's scent. He was almost certain that it was some sort of feline, but it didn't smell like one that was native to this area. Hal shifted his hands on the axe until he had a comfortable, two-handed grip on its haft.

  Without warning, the beast leapt from the underbrush with a fierce yowl. It's fore-claws stretched out towards the flesh of Hal's torso while it's jaws were wide and angling for his neck. Flecks of foam bubbled out of the beast's mouth and trailed along behind it along with an unhealthy amount of saliva. The large, yellow cat struck like lightning, soaring through the air in one powerful leap, a practiced predator against its prey.

  But as fast as the cat was, Hal had anticipated the move. Ducking down and lithely side-stepping away, the tawny-colored cat sailed just inches past the large man's shoulder and snarled in frustration. That quickly turned into a cry of agony as Hal's gleaming axe completed a full, arcing circle and slammed down into the creature's extended back.

  The beast crashed to the ground in a heap, the yowl now a whimper of pain. There was a large gash sliced deeply into its back, bright blood fountained out in a seemingly endless warm gush. Absently Hal noticed steam rising from the body due to the night's chill. Tasha's scream of terror echoed off into the night, completely drowning out Garn's heartfelt curses.

  The cat twitched on the ground in agony, crying at the pain. Hal, pitying the poor mad beast, raised his axe once again and brought it down thunderously. The sharp blade cleaved clean through its head and drove into the ground below. The cat twitched one last time before laying still.

  Tasha turned away from the vicious sight and retched noisily.

  Hal yanked his axe from the turf and wiped the blade clean on the beast's fur. Garn stepped up next to him and clinically examined the carnage. "Rabid?" he asked, gesturing towards the foam.

  "Yep," answered Hal. "I wondered at first why a mountain lion would be so far out of its natural territory... That explains it. The rest of his pack must have... noted his illness and forced him to leave." Hal sighed sorrowfully as he looked at the cat. "And then he found us."

  "A pity," the mage said.

  "Yep."

  The mage thought a moment longer. "If the creature was rabid, then there may be more like him nearby," he stated.

  Hal nodded. "Yep. We'd better go help Lady Tasha and be on our way."

  "Think we'll make it to Milton by daybreak?" Garn asked.

  Hal shrugged. "As long as we're out of there before noon, we should be all right."

  Both men nodded and went to assist Tasha.

  By daybreak that day, the three of them had purchased ample supplies and adequate mounts and were on their way out of Milton by midmorning. As they passed by the fountain in the center of town, Hal gave it an angry glance, as if blaming it for his previous misfortune. Garn smirked obviously but, said absolutely. Tasha would have made a comment she but was still a bit green from her earlier bout of vomiting and was hardly up for any brevity.

  By noon, they were well on their way to Wayfarer's Port.