The Dawn of the Raven Omnibus 1: Episodes 1-5 (8 page)

As the last bit of light left the day, Bob stated that they’d
better hurry and find a place to camp.

“Do The
Elken patrol at night?” inquired Kiella.

“Oh, there’s
more to fear than just the Elken here at night, Miss.  We’d best get out of
these woods and make camp.” 

He led them to a small clearing.  He announced it was a
favorite campsite of his, and found a small fire ring that he’d used hundreds
of time, complete with a spit perfect for roasting the rabbit he’d trapped. 
Kiella couldn’t fully shake her fear that they might attract the attention of
the exiles, or her constant paranoia that they were being watched, but she did
her best to try and relax.  It was a gorgeous night, and the majestic beauty of
the Forbidden Forest had impressed her so much during the day that she was, as
much as she could be, in good spirits.  Likewise, the fact that Raveena seemed
to have stabilized thanks to the herbs Bob had found, and also the fact that
Kiella wasn’t alone and had found a travel companion, one who had proven
incredibly helpful, also gave her a lift.  In no time, the rabbit was cooked
and ready, and Bob cut it with a large hunting knife and passed Kiella a very
hearty share.

“Mmmmm! 
Delicious!” Bob proclaimed heartily.  “I’d make a rabbit stew, I know how to
make a phenomenal one with the proper ingredients: another recipe passed down
through generations of Bumbeldens, but some of the ingredients are rather hard
to find.  If there’s one thing a Bumbelden can do well, it’s make a good pot of
stew.  Maybe next time!”  He gave her that now familiar, nearly toothless grin
with a mouth full of rabbit.

Kiella smiled back and thanked him for the delicious dinner. 
The two sat back and relaxed, and enjoyed the beauty of the night sky, and
began making a game of seeing who could point out the most constellations. 

“That one
there, those stars together, they make Andrastion.  You know of him?” asked
Bob.  When Kiella shook her head, he continued.  “Oh, a great one, was he. 
Greatest of all the hunters.  There, over next to him, Grent, the giant bear,
the spirit of the forest.  Andrastion was the one who trapped him, tamed him,
made the woods safe for men.”  His eyes grew a little saddened as he thought of
his big trap and its failure.  “I’m still after my Grent.  I’ll catch him yet!”

“How about
that one, there, a bit to the left and down.  See that bright one, and the four
below it in a square . . .  You know that one, don’t you?” asked Kiella.

“No . . . 
no, can’t say I do.  What is it?”

“Crowstone,
the greatest warrior of my people.  And there, next to him, down a bit, those
three there, in a triangle, that one is Hydraken, the great beast that finished
him.”

“What?  Your
greatest warrior was defeated?”

“Yes.  
Yes.  He did kill the Hydraken, however.  When the Hydraken swallowed him,
Crowstone carried his great, long, powerful sword with him.  The sharpest and
the longest blade ever carried in the realm, for he was the strongest of all
men.  The sword proved too sharp and too long for the beast to pass.  It died
of indigestion.”

Bob paused, then laughed heartily.  Then, he pointed to
another constellation, in the far north.

“See there,
that one?  It forms a semi-circle, and then a bright star above it.  You know
what that is?”  Kiella was stumped.  Bob became quite enthusiastic.  “Oh,
surely you do!  The Drakken!”

“Yes, I’ve
heard of that” responded Kiella.  “I remember stories of it as a child, but I
don’t recall the exact details.  Who slayed that one?”

“Slayed it? 
No one slayed the Drakken!  No one ever will!”  Bob’s eyes sparkled as he
spoke.

“You mean,
it still exists?  Yet they made a constellation of it?”

Bob leaned towards the fire and put his hands on his knees. 
He was clearly excited to speak of the Drakken.  He continued.

“Oh yes. 
They probably thought it was gone for good when they did that.  Probably
thought it was dead.”  Bob paused for a moment to pull off another piece of
rabbit meat for each of them, then continued.  “Oh yes, that’s right, you’re
from the east, your people wouldn’t have had to deal with the Drakken for quite
some time.  If you were from the west, you’d still know it.  You’d still know
it well.  Your friend there, she is Typhorian?  I’ve seen her crest.  She’d
know of it.  The Drakken is a great beast that lives in the far northwest, on
the very edge of this realm.  It awakens and feeds every two hundred years.  In
between, it lies dormant, like a giant tick, or a bear during the winter.  In
the forgotten ages, in the distant past, when it would awaken it would lay
waste to all, crushing through trees, palaces, anything that lay between it and
its prey.  It would wander the realm, eating man, woman, child, beast, anything
it could find until its huge appetite was quenched.  Then, finally, after its
great belly was full, it would go crawl back down to its cave, and sleep for
another two hundred years, until it was time to eat again.”

Kiella wasn’t sure whether to believe Bob.  Perhaps he was
exaggerating, trying to make the story sound more impressive for the campfire? 
If that’s what he was doing, it was working.  The look in his eye as he spoke
of it conveyed so much fear and trepidation, it made her fear the Drakken as if
she were a child hearing ghost stories all over again.

“But, you
said it’s still alive?  So it will be back?  Soon?  How come I don’t hear more
about it?”

“Well”
continued Bob, as the fear began to fade from his eyes “actually, he won’t be
back for quite a long time.  Not in our lifetimes, at any rate.  He shouldn’t
be back for at least another hundred years.”

“So, less
than one hundred years ago it went on one of its killing sprees, massacring all
who stood in its way?”  It seemed crazy to Kiella that she would not have heard
more about it if this were the case.

“Oh no.  No,
it didn’t.  It woke to feed, yes, but there was no massacre.  No.  That’s
probably why you don’t hear much about him anymore on your side of the realm. 
No, it’s probably been close to a thousand years since the beast did much
damage to humans.  That’s because, once the elders figured out its eating
cycle, they learned to prepare.  See, no one can kill the beast, but if all the
kingdoms in the west and the north pitch in and prepare a proper feast for it
for when it awakens, it just eats and then returns back to its den in peace. 
For a good long time now that has been the case.”  He poked at the fire with a
nice long stick to get it back to a nice even blaze.  “It takes a large toll on
the denizens of that side of the realm.  Tons of livestock must be sacrificed,
bodies of the dead hoarded and lain out, the forests are over hunted for months
in preparation.  They’ve learned, of course, that it’s always better to leave
too large a feast for the Drakken than too small of one, but yes, they take it
quite seriously.  There are elders appointed to each of those kingdoms to keep
track of when the beast is likely to awaken next, and to ensure that the
preparations are made.  So, no, he’s not quite as scary as he used to be, that
one.  As long as they prepare for him, as long as they’re ready, he’s not much
different than a giant pet, just one with a huge appetite who sleeps a lot. 
Why, it’s really something to see, they say, when he comes up to feed.  A pity
that neither of us will ever get to.  Oh well . . .”

Kiella was amazed at how fast Bob had gone from promoting the
creature as the worst threat imaginable, to acting so wistfully sad that he
wouldn’t get to see it in action.  She laughed at his story, now glad that she
didn’t have to worry about the Drakken, and finding the whole vision of the
people of the northwest all gathering to watch the giant beast eat every two
hundred years quite humorous.  Bob reached into his bag and produced two
chalices and a pouch of mead.  He poured a glass for himself, and then one for
Kiella.   At first, Kiella hesitated.

“Oh please!”
scoffed Bob.  “You still don’t trust me?  At this point, I thought we were like
old mates!  Old hunting buddies!  Practically kin!  Come on, it’s not
poisoned!  Here!”  And, just to make sure she was convinced, Bob downed his
full cup at once.  Then, he refilled it, laughed, and held it up to toast their
friendship.  “Ah, it’s good fortune that brought us together, my friend!  Let
us drink to it and enjoy this beautiful night!”

Kiella finally relented.  She tipped her cup to him and then
sipped from it.  The mead was quite strong, and within moments she began to
feel its effects.  They laughed and told jokes as the fire spit out sparks that
attempted to fly up to the heavens, but always burned up far short of the
mark.  She wasn’t much of a drinker as it was, so it only took a few cups
before she began to grow very drowsy, and her eyes began to cloud.

Kiella’s dreams were quite strange.  Images of battle, huge
monsters ravaging the land, and even being mauled by wolves and other creatures
of the forest all plagued her sleep.  When Kiella finally began to come to,
something wasn’t right.  She was groggy, so it was hard at first to make sense
of it, but she couldn’t seem to move her hands.  No.  They were stuck behind
her back, and no matter how hard she tried, they would not budge.  She found
she couldn’t move her feet properly either.  Slowly, by degrees, her senses
started to come back to her, though this took much longer than it seemed like
it should have.  Was it the mead?  This seemed strange even for a hang-over. 
Finally, she awoke enough to open her eyes and try to gain her bearings.  She
was still at the campsite, lying on the ground, but she was face down, and her
hands were tied behind her back, and her legs were bound at the ankles.  She
tried to yell for Bob, but she found that she was gagged as well.  She looked
to the mule, and saw it still tethered, with Raveena still unconscious on the
stretcher laid down on the ground behind it.  There was no sign of Bob
anywhere.  Suddenly, she heard several voices approaching.  The voices were
loud and cocky, with laughter filling the air.  Was it the savages?  The
Elken?  Had they killed poor Bob, and now they were coming back for her?  She
fought as quickly as she could to try and slip out of the bondage, but her
efforts were useless.

Unable to do anything to change her destiny, Kiella laid
there squirming and mumbling unintelligibly through her gag as three men wandered
into the clearing.  They were smiling already as they entered, but their grins
widened all the more at the sight of her.   They laughed and patted one another
on the back.  Behind them, Kiella heard a familiar voice joining the chatter. 
It was Bob Bumbelden, who grinned from ear-to-ear as he showed off the spoils
of his most recent hunt to his brethren.  He leaned down to Kiella and spoke to
her, his huge, almost toothless grin mocking her.

“Ah pretty! 
I guess I wasn’t quite as forthcoming as I could have been.  I’m not all that
alone out here, after all.  It’s me, Cretin, and quite a bit of the rest of my
kin.  There are quite a few of us Bumbeldens, actually.  But we do get lonely
out here, don’t we boys?  We don’t see many fine young things like you in these
parts, no we don’t.”

“Ah yes . .
. “ joined in one of the others.  “I love the blondies.”

Another just now took notice of Raveena.

“And what
about her?  What’s wrong with this one?”

“Oh”
answered Bob.  “That one there is out cold.  Has been cut up a bit.  But do as
you like.”

“Oh, she’s a
looker!  I like this one!”

“Well, help
yourselves boys.  Fuck them all you like, and, when we tire of them, they’ll
make quite the feast!”  As Bob said this, he sharpened his knife and smiled
again at Kiella, who continued, frantically and fruitlessly, to try and break
free of her bonds.

“Oh, you’d
do better to cut off your hands and feet to get free than to try and untie
those knots, Sweetheart.  If there’s one thing a Bumbelden can do well, it’s
tie a good knot.”

Just then, as Bob laughed and grinned, and the others got
ready to have a go at them, the biggest bear that Kiella had ever seen ravaged
the side of Bob’s head with a giant swipe of its massive paw.  It had burst
into the camp so suddenly and so unexpectedly, the other men had no chance to
defend themselves.  Two others fell immediately to its incredible swings, their
flesh torn to shreds by its deep, sharp claws and massive strength.  The final
man tried to run for it, but the bear chased him down, knocked him down with
one blow, and took a giant bite deep into the back of his neck, all but
severing his head, which hung from the body by the slightest thread of skin and
sinew as the bear then returned back towards the camp.  Seeing it approach,
Kiella panicked.  To have survived the assault from the men, only to be mauled
by a bear?  She looked over at Raveena, still unconscious, oblivious to all
that had transpired.  Perhaps it was a blessing.  Raveena wouldn’t feel it as
the bear chewed her flesh, unlike Kiella, who couldn’t even scream because of
the gag, and could do nothing to alter her fate as she still lay there bound. 

But, suddenly the bear turned away.  It stopped and looked
over Raveena, perhaps sniffing her to see if her meat was fresh enough to still
make a good meal.  It turned back, then, to look at Kiella one last time but,
rather than looking like an animal in a frenzy, Kiella saw in its eyes
something that resembled compassion.  The beast then turned away, and
disappeared back into the trees.