The Animal WithinA Story by Sam Ammonsfantasy fiction The village had grown since the last time Fulcraan had come down from the mountain. What had been little more than mudhuts, and log cabins was now a bustling town trying to stretch the length of the valley. He walked up the cobblestone road in the center of town, shifting the heavy sack over his shoulder. The air was filled with the smell of cooking fires, and torches along with the sweet smell of freshly honed wood. Most of the towns people were hard at work. The men were logging in the forest, while most of the women fished in the river with nets or mended them onshore. A couple of dogs came around the merchant’s shop to bark at him as Fulcraan walked into the building. He shut the door behind him, pausing a moment to give his eyes time to adjust to the low light of the merchant’s store. It was fall now, and the sun wasn’t as strong this time of year. “Just a minute,” a woman’s voice called from the other room. Fulcraan walked to the counter and sat his canvas sack on top of it. He looked around. There were earthen jars on shelves behind the counter which he knew were filled with dry goods such as beans, rice, and meats turned to jerky. A few glass jars of hard tack sat on the counter. Other supplies filled the shop such as blankets, pots, cloth for clothes, and various tools. A woman come out from a back room wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. She broke into a broad grin when she saw Fulcraan. “Fulcraan, it’s so good to see you,” she said bustling over and hugging him. She didn’t notice the ripple in his jaw as he steeled himself not to back away. “Molly. You’re looking well.” Fulcraan pushed her back with his hands on her shoulders. He couldn’t help notice the gray in her hair at the temple. “I’m starting to get old, Fulcraan. You shouldn’t wait so long to visit.” “I’ve never enjoyed the company of people, except you of course.” “You spend too much time alone, you know. It’s not healthy,” she said giving him a sad look. “I’ve brought what you sent Soryn to tell me you needed,” he said pointing at his sack. She still looked at him sadly, sighed and let the matter drop. Molly opened the sack and took out the contents. Axe blades, steel splitting wedges, along with a few garden tool blades. “Excellent,” she said. Molly reached in her apron pocket and handed him some gold coins. “Help me put handles on a few of these? There’s a barrel of hickory over there all ready to go.” “Sure.” They busied themselves taking the handles for the various tools, and putting them in place. It was a strong wood capable of taking the punishment of hard use. They had just finished and put the spare handles back in the barrel when the door opened. Three men came inside. The dogs were parking at them from the street. “Shut up!” one of them shouted. “You damn muts!” He slammed the door. “You gotta do something about those dogs, Molly,” another of them said with a disgusted tone. “Why? They’re doing what they’re supposed to do. Let me know when strangers are around.” She said walking behind the counter. Molly looked at Fulcraan out of the corner of her eye. Her furrowed brow showed just how nervous she had become. Fulcraan knew why. He didn’t look at the men and backed away, moving slowly toward the door. It didn’t work. “What’re you doing here, halfbreed?” One of them said in a disgusted tone. “You’ve got some nerve coming into town,” said another. “You don’t belong here, wolfen scum!” The last said through clenched teeth. “How many of your kind slaughtered our grandfathers?” “Hey!” Molly shouted. “I’ll say this once Leo: This is my place, not yours. I say who comes, and who goes. If you don’t like him here, you can make your tools out of stone for all I care.” “Simmer down, Molly,” The first raising his hands in surrender, “We just came back to see if you got the axes ready yet.” “You have eyes don’t you?” Molly gestured at the axes hanging from pegs on the other side of the room. The three men walked over, taking axes off the wall. They tested the edges. “These sharp?” “Yeah, Max, what do you think?” Leo asked. “Of course they’re sharp Bryan,” Molly said in an insulted tone. “I’ll see you, Molly,” Fulcraan said walking to the door. “Tell me something, halfbreed,” Bryan said, “was it a human w***e getting it from a Wolfen, or was it a Wolfen b***h getting it from a crazy human?” Molly had never seen anyone move as fast as Fulcraan did in that moment. Molly blinked and in that moment Fulcraan had covered the ten feet between the front door and the three men. His sword whistled through the air. He pressed it’s blade against Bryan’s neck. A trickle of blood slid down to his collar. Fulcraan was focused on his sword and the man’s neck. The edges of his vision black, everything seemed to be red. And then a voice broke through his hate. “Fulcraan, don’t kill him,” Molly said. It hung there for a tense moment. Hearts raced. The look on Fulcraan’s face spoke death. He looked hard at Bryan. “Insult me again, and I’ll strike off your head where you stand,” He said through clenched teeth. He felt the old rage. Something he hadn’t felt since the war. He slid the sword back into it’s scabbard and left through the door before anyone said a word. The two dogs ran up to Fulcraan, and he glared at them. The two dogs were quiet now. Their tails hanging behind them, their head lowered to the ground. They whimpered. He reached down and patted their heads, and rubbed their necks. He stood upright, and walked quickly up the street and disappeared down a dirt path leading into the woods. Fulcraan was well over a mile away, and had just came into a clearing over looking the valley before he stopped. He breathed heavily. He stood there a moment to catch his breath. Looking back down the ridge line, he could see the ocean of different colored leaves, swaying this way and that as the waves of yellow, orange, and red swung in the cool breeze from the north. A calmness came over him, and his breathing slowed to normal. A thick fog had fallen. It hung at treetop level and was moving up the valley toward him. “What?” Fulcraan muttered. He smelled it. Burning embers. A fire. A large one. He could barely see the village from his point of view, but he knew something was wrong. The air was thick with it. Then an inhuman howl reached his ears. No dog, or any beast save one could have made it. Wolfen. It’s sound echoed and re-echoed down the valley. Fulcraan drew his sword and startedback down the path heading to the village once more. He was perhaps halfway, when Molly and a group of women met him headlong on the path. A dozen children were with them. “Fulcraan!” Molly sighed in relief. “He led them to us,” Bryan exclaimed brandishing a scythe. Molly stopped him in his tracks. “Of course he didn’t,” Molly scolded. The other women were holding a variety of tools as weapons. Axes, fillet knives, or spears for fishing. The children huddled close to their mothers. Bryan’s two friends brought up the rear. “What’s happened, Molly?” Fulcraan asked. His eyes looked through the forest looking for any sign of movement. “The Wolfen attacked. Most of the wood cutters are dead. What was left are trying to hold them so the women and children can escape.” “How many are there?” “I don’t know. We didn’t even see any yet.” “Did you hear that howling?” One of the women asked another. Fulcraan didn’t waste time and addressed Molly directly. “Molly you have to get everyone out of here,” he said walking to her and looking her in the eyes. “They wouldn’t just attack unless they had an advantage in numbers. If they’re claiming thisvalley, then they’ll slaughter any human in it. You have to lead these people to safety. I’ll hold them here so you can escape.” “We’re not helping that. . .” Leo began. Then suddenly there was a crash, and he disappeared. A blur of movement caught Fulcraan’s eye. Everyone else screamed. A single Wolfen had slammed into Leo, carrying him into the treeline. He was rendering his flesh with it’s teeth, and slashing him with steely claws. Leo, gurgled a second before dying. The Wolfen turned slowly around. He looked at Fulcraan and rose to it’s full height. A Wolfen is a crowd all by itself. Standing at eight feet tall on it’s hind legs, the black fur matted with the blood of it’s victims. This beast was a scout for a larger force. It wore no clothing, and had very little armor. A steel helmet, and gauntlets protecting it’s hands and wrists. “Fulcraan the half breed,” It said. The Wolfen growled mean and low baring it’s teeth. The Wolfen swung it’s steely clawed hand at Fulcraan. It’s claws slicing the air. Fulcraan ducked, swung his sword around in his hand, and darted past the creature. He slashed it’s leg on the way by, and the beast dropped to one knee. Fulcraan, with the same fluid motion, swung his sword around, sending it’s head flying through the air to land at Bryan’s feet as he and Molly got within sight. They both stared at Fulcraan with a look of something very close to awe in their eyes. He didn’t wait. Fulcraan walked to Molly and took her by the arm, leading her back to the group. Bryan trailed after them. “Where’s Leo?” he asked. “He’s dead.” Fulcraan answered matter-of-factly. “You have to leave, Molly. Right now.” “Indeed,” said a women. They all turned to see an Elven woman emerge from nowhere. The underbrush seemed to part for her to allow her to pass without a touch. “Saraphina?” Fulcraan said in wonderment. Fulcraan had not seen the Elven in some time and thought she had left the valley. She was even more of a recluse than himself. Her hair was white, she wore leather armor, a sword hung from her back and the bow was nocked with an arrow. “I’ll help them hold the Wolfen, Molly, while you ensure the children’s safety.” She pulled a long knife from her belt, and handed it to the unarmed Molly. “Where did you come from?” Fulcraan asked Saraphina. “I came across the war party, and tracked them.” “Come along the rest of you,” Molly said pushing the other woman forward. “Emma you lead the way to Donham Castle.” The party started down the path. Molly stopped to look back at Fulcraan a moment. Then disappeared into the woods. “How are the four of us supposed to hold off an army of Wolfen?” Max asked nervously. The young man had never even seen the sight of blood before today. “We’re not,” Saraphina answered. “All we can hope is to give Molly and the others time to get to the keep.” “What if we miss them,” Bryan said. “I mean, what if the Wolfen go around us and catch up with them?” Saraphina and Fulcraan exchanged a look. “We’ll just have to make sure they don’t,” Fulcraan answered. “How are we supposed to do that?” Max asked nervously. Fulcraan stood. He threw back his head and howled for as long and as loud as he possibly could. It was a sound that no normal human throat could create. I blur of movement caught their eyes. “Here they come,” Bryan said, brandishing his scythe. Max readied his axe. Before either of them saw anything, a Wolfen running on all fours was almost on top of them. It dropped dead with one of Saraphina’s arrows sticking out of it’s eye socket. It slid to a stop at Max’s feet. This one was a scout as well. Suddenly, the woods seemed alive with movement. Another scout slammed into Bryan and they disappeared into the brush with him swinging wildly at it with his weapon. A scout rushed at Max, but he sank his axe into it’s head, killing the beast instantly. Four more Wolfen emerged from the wood. Saraphina shot arrow after arrow at one, but these were no scouts. They wore breast plated armor over much of their bodies. She drew her sword, and hung the bow on her back. They moved to engage each other. Two came at Fulcraan. They were armed with short swords. Their swords clanged into Fulcraan’s. Their moves blurred in their frenzied attack. Fulcraan was being hard pressed. One of the Wolfen made a misstep and Fulcraan buried his sword in it’s chest to the hilt. It’s armor giving way to the finely made steel blade. The other Wolfen took advantage and slashed Fulcraan’s shoulder. He winced in agony, and yanked his sword free. The Wolfen slashed it’s claws at Fulcraan’s face. It missed by inches. It followed with a flurry of attacks. Fulcraan saw an opening and took it. He slashed upward, cutting the beast from navel to neck. It staggered backward and lashed out, knocking the sword from his hand. The beast reached out, and grabbed Fulcraan by the neck, lifting him off his feet. It brought him closer until they were looking eye to eye, letting out a growl filled with hate. Fulcraan prepared himself. He had no doubt he was about to die. Suddenly, and arrow head protruded out of the Wolfen’s mouth. It blinked in wonderment a moment before crashing to the ground, and dropping Fulcraan. He pulled himself painfully from the ground to see Saraphina with bow in hand. Max was still alive, but wounded. Bryan emerged from the wood. Bloodied, but alive. He walked to Fulcraan and offered him a hand. Fulcraan took it, and was helped to his feet. About then, the survivors of the village come filing down the path. Bryan went to them, and spoke to them as Saraphina and the others bandaged their wounds. “They’re heading to the keep as well. No one else survived,” Bryan informed them. “Just as well,” Saraphina answered. “This was only an advanced force. A small group ahead of the main body of the army.” “More are coming?” Fulcraan winced as they started down the path toward the castle. “Yes.” “What are we going to do?” Max asked. “We fight.” Fulcraan answered. © 2019 Sam AmmonsAuthor's Note
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