Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) (19 page)

“Come on, Lenny!” Qyxal shouted. “You have to go faster than that!”

“I’m still sore, you dag-gum tree-licker!” Lenny yelled.

They could hear Fist’s roar and the sounds of battle behind them, but neither one dared look back until they reached the cave’s entrance. The cave’s interior was large and open. The ceiling was twice as high as the top of the giant’s head in the center of the cave and large boulders crowded the floor, some of them nearly reaching the ceiling. It was too dark to see the rear of the cave, so Qyxal switched to his mage sight, hoping to see Buster’s glow.

“Oh my . . .” The cave was flooded with the brilliance of elemental magic. The ceiling was reinforced with fire and earth and the rear wall of the cave shone forth with intense amounts of air and water. The black cord of earth magic connecting the giant to this cave originated from the center of that wall.

“Gall-durn it, can’t see a dag-gum thing in here!” Lenny spat.

Qyxal placed his hand on the cave wall and sent tendrils of earth magic along the surface of the rock, altering the tiny molds and fungi that clung there to produce a luminescent glow. Soon the cave was flooded with a soft green light and it was evident that their search was not going to be as easy as they thought.

The giant wasn’t lying about his trophies. Pieces of broken weapons were scattered about the cave along with packs and bags, boots, saddles, anything that the people he defeated might have been carrying. There was a pile of gold and random coins in one corner and the bones of multiple different animals, mainly horses were lying everywhere.

“Dag-blast it! We don’t have time fer this. Findin’ Buster’s gonna be harder than tryin’ to find a tater in a turd storm!” Lenny rooted around through the giant’s loot cursing, while Qyxal moved toward the rear of the cave. What he saw there stunned him.

“Lenny! It would have to be back here!” Qyxal shouted. The rear wall of the cave was scarred and chipped all around the spot where the earth magic originated. At the base of the wall, the ground was littered with broken pieces of what must have been dozens of magical weapons that glittered brightly in his mage sight. “That is, if it is still in one piece.”

“Cheaters! Ow, Hey!” Charz roared as Fist knocked him backward with a tremendous blow to the chest. Flames and rock flew from the impact.

Justan held another arrow to his ear and waited for the right opening. He couldn’t afford to hit Fist accidentally. A shot from this range could kill him.

The ogre’s fury was frightening in its intensity. Fueled by his reaction to the dwarf’s liquor, Fist’s speed was greater than that of the giant. He rained blow after blow on him and Charz hadn’t been able to get in a counter attack.

Charz was covered in cracks and burn marks. Every fierce strike of the hammer left a wound glowing with heat. The magic that healed the giant was having a hard time keeping up, but it seemed to have speeded up in response to the magnitude of the damage. The wound from Justan’s first arrow strike had nearly closed.

Fist readied another swing, and Charz kicked out, catching the ogre in the chest. The kick knocked Fist onto his back and the giant turned to run towards the cave. Justan shot another arrow, this one aimed behind the giant’s left knee. The blast took out the joint just as Gwyrtha dove at the giant’s legs from the front. Charz tumbled over her and crashed to the ground, yelling in pain and frustration.

“Take out his limbs!” Justan shouted.

Fist was already there. Despite several broken ribs that Justan could feel through the bond, the ogre swung the hammer with crushing force at the side of the giant’s knee and the impact bent the leg at an odd angle. Gwyrtha leapt onto the giant’s back, using her weight to hold him down.

“Cheaters! It hurts!” Charz howled. Justan walked up and drew another arrow.

“Do you yield?”

“I would never yield to cheaters!” Charz snarled and began to push himself up with his arms despite Gwyrtha’s weight.

Justan shot the same shoulder he had started the battle with.  The giant collapsed back to the ground. Justan drew another arrow and blasted out the other one. The giant lay helpless. “Fist, watch him and make sure these wounds do not heal. As soon as they get back, we’ll leave.”

The ogre nodded grimly and held the hammer at the ready.

“Cheaters! Aaaagh!” the giant cried.

“Shut up Charz, you lost.” Justan said.

“I never lose! I will hunt you down and eat you alive, every one of you!” the giant snarled.

“No, I don’t think you will,” Justan said. “I think that you are somehow imprisoned in this place. A monster like you . . .” Justan paused while Fist bashed one of the giant’s knees again, causing another cry of pain to escape Charz’s lips. “You wouldn’t be satisfied with staying in a cave. You would be roaming the countryside challenging the biggest and the best warriors out there.”

“I can leave whenever I want!” Charz snarled.

“I can see the magic binding you to this place, you know,” Justan said. “It is a cruel spell, whatever’s keeping you here. I am just glad it’s there so I don’t have to kill you. Though I wonder if the magic can heal your brain . . .” He pulled another arrow back, aiming between the giant’s eyes.

“You sound mean,” Fist said, an impressed tone in his voice.

“I know,” Justan responded. “I can’t help myself. He deserves it.”

“Why they take so long?” Fist asked in concern, looking towards the cave.

“Why ‘do’ they take so long,” Justan reminded him. “I don’t know. Maybe they are having a hard time finding Buster.”

“Shut up, you two. I’m in pain, here- argh!” Charz growled as Fist bashed the other wounded leg for good measure.

They come
, Gwyrtha said.

Justan turned and saw Lenny and Qyxal running towards them. They were both weighed down with bulging sacks slung over their shoulders. Lenny still managed to hold out Buster triumphantly. It didn’t take them long to arrive, though Lenny was hobbling quite a bit.

“You beat him!” Qyxal said as they came up next to them. He winced at the state the giant was in. “You two are vicious.”

“Yes,” said Fist as he moved forward and bashed Charz’s shoulder which had stopped bleeding.

“Aaagh! You . . . Hey, dwarf!” Charz said. “You taking my stuff?”

“‘Spoils of battle.’ Ain’t that what you called it?” Lenny said with a grin.

“Well you dwarves live a long time.” The giant snarled. “One day I’m going to escape from here and track you down. I’ll kill you and your friends an-!”

Lenny dropped the sack and ended the giant’s threat with a two-handed blow to its head so heavy Justan felt it in his feet. The giant’s head cracked down the middle and he stopped moving. The dwarf lifted the hammer and kissed it, getting dust all over his handlebar mustache.

“Buster’s still singin’!” Lenny said proudly.

“What did you two find in there?” Justan asked.

“Later. We need to get goin! That ain’t gonna keep him out fer long.” Lenny said. Sure enough, Justan saw that the wound was closing fast.

“You aren’t going to kill him?” Qyxal asked the dwarf in disbelief.

“Nah, we got more than we needed out of him. This should teach that durn rock-biter a lesson,” Lenny said. “’Sides, who knows if we even could?”

“Right. Let’s go, then,” Justan said.

Fist bashed the giant’s leg one more time for good measure and they ran.

They didn’t make it very far into the forest before they heard Charz yelling. Boulders began crashing into the trees behind them. The voice didn’t fade as they made their way through the dense leaves. It was evident that he was coming after them.

“How did he get up and moving so fast?” Justan asked.

“I don’t know how his magic works,” Qyxal replied. “Maybe he can control how fast he heals. Who knows? We just need to keep moving.”

They were at a disadvantage with both Lenny and Fist injured. The sacks that the elf and dwarf had brought out of the giant’s cave were extremely heavy. Justan put Lenny on Gwyrtha’s back despite both of their protests, but there was nothing he could do for Fist besides ask that he bear with the pain of his broken ribs as they ran. Qyxal simply could not heal him on the move and they didn’t dare stop. Running as quickly as they were able, the group headed for the spot where they had tethered the horses on the edge of the giant’s territory.

When they finally reached the forest’s edge and the horses that awaited them, they tied the dwarf’s sacks of loot to the saddles. Qyxal put his hands on Fist’s chest. The ogre’s breathing was ragged and his face was still red from his reaction to the liquor. He was no longer enraged but Justan knew that he felt quite ill.

“That’s strange,” Qyxal said as he released his hands. “His body’s not reacting to the healing as well as he should. His ribs aren’t broken anymore, but I couldn’t get rid of all the bruising. I’ll try again once we get to safety. Sorry, Fist.”

The ogre just grunted in response.

The shouts of the giant were still too faint to make out what he was yelling, but he was getting closer. They mounted the horses and Justan turned to the ogre. “Fist, are you sure you don’t want to try riding Stanza for a little while? Lenny could ride with me for now.”

Gwyrtha snorted in dismay, glad to have gotten rid of the dwarf.

“I will run,” Fist said.

They rode towards the shallows that the supply store owner had promised they would find where the giant’s territory and the
Wide
River
met. Charz’s shouts faded in the distance and Justan breathed a little easier.

As they rode, Justan kept a concerned eye on the ogre that ran alongside them. Fist’s steps were uneven and his breathing got more labored as they went. Justan, keeping his body at one with Gwyrtha’s movements, closed his eyes and sent his mage sight into the ogre through the bond.

His worries grew. Despite the chill air, Fist’s temperature was running hot. His blood vessels seemed swollen and his heartbeat did not sound regular. He had a pounding headache and his skin, still flushed and red, was now covered in welts that Justan had not previously seen because of the clothing the ogre wore.

Fist, you are sick
, he sent.

I am good,
the ogre replied.
We are almost there.

Justan opened his eyes. He was right. They were nearly at the river. They came to the top of a hill and as the ground sloped downward, Justan could see its expanse in front of them. The river was so wide that he could barely make out the shoreline on the far side. The shallows stretched out before them. Rocks and boulders were visible sticking up from the water leaving it white and frothy.

The forest ended a short distance from the rivers edge and once they reached the shore, Justan called a halt. Fist swayed on his feet as they stopped. Justan ran over and made him sit down. Squirrel darted about on the ogre from shoulder to shoulder, chattering in concern before finally curling up around Fist’s neck.

Fist held his head in his hands and mumbled, “It is ok, Squirrel. Just need rest.”

“Qyxal,” Justan called. “Fist isn’t doing well. I think he had a bad reaction to the firewater. His chest is broken out in welts.”

The elf dismounted and put his hands on the ogre. Justan could see the magic pouring from his fingers. Qyxal concentrated and a frown pulled down the corners of his mouth.

“You are right Justan. Unfortunately, I-I can’t just . . . heal that. The alcohol is in his blood and whatever is affecting him has spread throughout his entire body. Broken bones are one thing but this is beyond my skills. If I had something specific to treat . . .” The elf looked into the ogre’s eyes. “Fist, what is bothering you the most?”

“Head hurts. Skin itches.”

“I can help with the headache at least.” Qyxal reached into Fist’s head with his magic and soothed the swollen vessels, reducing the pain. “It will last only so long though. The reaction will subside on its own eventually, but until your system purges your blood of the alcohol, the headache will just come back again. I’ll see if I can get your liver working faster . . .”