Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Karson had landed the flyer behind a screening grove of trees, leaving the semi-conscious Hyas strapped to his seat. The restraints pulled tight against his body, restricted his feverish movements in order to prevent the huge man from causing further harm to himself. Kalum wondered whether this was from some new altruistic sense, or rather that Karson was merely trying to ensure his own acceptance by the Tauran and his shadowy allies.

When Kalum made as if to follow Karson out of the flyer, a peremptory wave of a hand forced him back to his seat. At first there was no explanation, but as the big man buckled a pistol to his belt, he spoke.

“Right now, it’s better that you remain here and take care of the Tauran.” said Karson, as he opened the flyer’s main door, “If Lepus has found his ship, there will be bloodshed, and a substantial amount. You will only get in the way.”

Feeling affronted, Kalum petulantly turned away, but a strong hand gripped his shoulder, “I .. am not used to diplomatic discourses, forgive me, my Lord,” petitioned Karson in a much softer tone, “Your safety is my first concern and may well need to be the other Karson right now. With no concern except the death of my enemies, I can be more efficient. I will return for you both, as soon as I can.”

Indicating his understanding with a smile, Kalum moved to Hyas’ side, as Karson made his way out of the craft. “Karson ... ?” he called, arresting the big man’s movement and bringing a look of impatience to his face, “Take care...”

The face of Lepus’ brutal ex-Leftenant coloured, embarrassment warred with a new found pride, but Karson’s only visible response was a curt nod of acknowledgement as he jumped down to the ground.

*

A breeze gently moved the leaves, their gentle whispering belying the potential for violence expressed by Karson’s stealthy advance. He was not fooled by the idyllic setting, nor the seeming absence of sound or lack of obvious danger. It was exactly this silence which worried him, caused him to drop to the ground and inch forward towards the top of the nearby rise in the ground. Peering through the cover of vegetation, he could see Hyas’ ship, its camouflage blending it in with its surrounds, yet it was impossible to completely hide it.

Now he waited, patience was extremely important, although difficult to maintain under such stressful conditions, however, this was not the first time he had needed to follow such a course of action. Breathing slowly to calm his adrenalin-enhanced body, he made himself as comfortable as possible and watched carefully for any betraying signs of unusual activity.

Karson had almost convinced himself that everything was fine, that no-one with a murderous intent lay in wait. His muscles had bunched in preparation for his planned movement when he heard an incongruous sound. No bird-call, nor susurration of wind, but the sharp explosion of a sneeze. It had come from the other side of the Tauran’s craft, seemingly echoing out from underneath the stubby landing slides. Relaxing his tensed muscles, Karson slid slowly to the ground, rolling away from his cover down the rise, until he could once more regain his feet.

Now his actions were quick and assured, as he skirted the landing site and approached the vessel from the other side. In his hand there was no pistol, but the thin stiletto blade of his knife. His concentration was immense, each footfall could announce his presence and leave the boy on his own. This was a new sensation for Karson, he had never worried about anyone, or anything in his life before. Yet, the astonishing news of the boy’s identity and the implicit trust in which Kalum held the big man, had shocked him to the core. There could be no mistakes, he needed to find and eliminate whatever threat there was, permanently.

Finally, he was within striking distance, hidden amongst the thick vegetation, as was his enemy. The distinctive sound could not help him further, right now he needed his foe’s exact position, so he waited, tensed, his muscles quivering in anticipation. Like a hunting cat, his weight was evenly balanced, body ready for instant reaction. Then it came and without thought Karson struck, his blade sliding easily into human flesh, once, twice and then a third and final time. There had been a whisper of cloth, a flicker of movement and Karson had leapt to the kill.

Slowly he lowered the body to the floor, recognising the man as one of Lepus’ soldiers. He knew however that there would not just be one of them and the obvious place for another, would be inside the craft itself. The man’s rifle lay by his side and Karson retrieved it, checking the state of its flechette charge, then ready once more, he moved to the partially open entrance.

No sound nor unexpected movement alerted him of the impending attack, rather it was his senses, attuned over the years to the nature of such deadly encounters, that drove him into a long flat dive. His trajectory carried him through the door, the rifle tucked in close to his body, as he used his shoulder to break his fall, rolling over and upright. Instinctively his finger tightened, sending the wicked metallic needles whickering outwards in a horrific arc. A grunt, followed by a scream told him that he had struck his target, but he had not stood still waiting. Already, he had followed the first burst from the weapon with another and then slammed into the dark shape before him, a moist and pliant body collapsing before him. Mistily he felt the caress of liquid against his skin and the swipe of his forearm, across his face, not only cleared his vision, but left a salty taste on his lips.

Using his boot, he rolled the corpse out of his way and prowled further into the craft. Lepus was a fool, but Karson was a known and deadly commodity. He would be insulted if this was the limit of the troops left to deal with him.

*
Kalum watched the slow and even rise and fall of Hyas’ barrel chest. The Tauran’s wound appeared to have stabilised, although the make-shift bandage and black and congealed blood around the wound, spoke graphically of the trauma experienced. Now and again, the boy dabbed at Hyas’ forehead with a cool cloth, the little that he could do from his limited experience. It was as he left forward, to wipe away a little of the accumulated sweat and grime from the Tauran’s horns that he felt the hand grasp the back of his collar and wrench him backwards.

Shouting in fright, Kalum was dragged across the door towards the exit. His scrabbling fingers caught onto the side of one of the control panels and he hung on for dear life. A voice cursed and the butt of a pistol was smashed down onto is fingers, the pain causing him to let go of his handhold and his precipitous journey began again.

He bumped his head against one of the door surrounds and felt himself twist, as his assailant propelled him out of the door and sent him crashing to the earth. Looking up, he could see the face of his attacker and its demeanour did nothing to encourage him. Blood shot eyes stared out of a scarred and bitter face. The man spat onto the floor, raising the weapon in his hand and pointing it determinedly at Kalum.

Another man approached from behind a tree, buttoning his trousers, before wiping his hand on the back of his combat fatigues.

“Killing him right now, would be pretty much unadvisable,” he said, his voice curiously cultured and at odds with his appearance, “Lepus wants to know where the object is. If you kill him, then ask him where it is, getting a sensible and intelligible answer, may be a little difficult!”

“What .. ?” snarled his companion, changing the angle of his weapon.

“I said ...” began the first man, his reply cut short, as he looked down curiously at the steel blade poking out of his chest, his subsequent liquid cough announcing the spurt of blood which flew from his mouth. He looked somewhat disconcerted, his hands spread pleadingly towards his companion , who even now opened fire, his projectile weapon spiting forth rounds which slammed into the dying man’s body.

Kalum buried his face in his hands, appalled at the violence being played out before him. The second soldier had once more trained his rifle onto the young boy, his face contorted in anger as he pulled the trigger. None of the expected pain of impact arrived, rather the soldier’s body flew outwards from the doorway, his weapon discharging harmlessly into the air. An axe stuck deep into his back became visible as he collapsed lifeless to the floor and Kalum saw the figure of the Tauran which stood momentarily in the doorway, before crumpling to the floor.

As he made to rush to Hyas’ aid, a hand pushed him back down and fear struck hard at the boy. His frightened glance, though, revealed the large figure of Karson, who stood over him, blood dripping onto the boy from his gore-covered figure. Somehow he had inherited this man, this machine of destruction and Kalum was only too glad that Karson was on his side.

*

“Why hasn’t Lepus attacked us?” asked Kalum, as they relaxed in the Tauran’s craft, “If he knows that this is here, why wouldn’t he just use those same weapons that he did on my village.”

“Probably, because he doesn’t know where we are,” answered Karson, staring deep into Kalum’s eyes, his gaze making the boy feel uncomfortable, “these men were sent out to find Hyas’ ship and wait for your return. This was done before my own crew and I found you and knowing those involved, they would have kept the location to themselves.”

“Why?” inquired a perplexed Kalum, his abrupt submersion into the dangerous political waters occasioned by his alleged ancestry, leaving him floundering.

“Nothing too noble”, responded Karson, turning to the main control board to begin preparations for take-off, “Lepus’ men, but mirror their Master’s traits; avarice, theft, murder, extortion, and any other anti-social behaviour he can get away with. They would have first of all thought of how much they could extort from Lepus, then would have been afraid of his actions and finally would have been bored. Your arrival gave them something to do to entertain themselves, eventually they would have killed you.”

“Eventually ...?” came Kalum’s querulous question.

“You really don’t want know,” advised Karson, as he punched the launch sequence into the controls and the engines roared into life, “believe me, you really don’t..!”

The vessel shuddered as it shook itself free of the ground’s restraint, the landing sleds drawing quickly into their housing. Karson swung the ship around, bringing its offensive and defensive systems on line as he aimed the craft upwards.

“Hold on,” he said, as the ship gathered speed, “this could get a little bit rocky!”

Kalum watched the clouds streak by, their velocity increasing rapidly, this was potentially the beginning of his journey, or, he thought to himself as alarms screamed into strident life, the end of it.

*

“There they are!” shouted Lepus, pounding his fist on the arm of his chair, “Target them directly! Blow them into a million pieces!”

“But, My Lord, the object!” protested his second-in-command.
In one swift movement, Lepus drew his pistol and shot the stunned Officer right between the eyes. As the man’s body slumped backwards, blood and brains spraying over the astonished Bridge crew, Lepus stared coldly around, “Anyone else care to challenge my orders?”

He was met first by silence and then a frenzied activity, as his men rushed to obey him. The welcoming feel of the ship’s engines vibrating through the hull, was followed by the Gunnery Officer’s report of his readiness. A hideous smile sat for a moment on the man’s face, before he gave his next command, “FIRE!”

*

“As predictable as a whore at a Two for One sale ..” muttered Karson, as his hands flew across the control panel in front of him.

“A what ...?” asked Kalum, momentarily distracted from the threat of his imminent demise.

“Eh .. nothing” responded Karson sheepishly, “Now do something useful. Watch this screen and tell me when the crosshairs on it turn gold. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can,” stated Kalum, slightly affronted by the big man’s condescension, “Then what?”

“When the centre circle goes green, press this button,” here he indicated a red button, set below and slightly to one side of the screen.

“What does that do?” asked Kalum eagerly.

“You’ll see,” grinned Karson, “let’s just leave it as a surprise until then, why don’t we?”

Guffawing, he turned away and Kallum concentrated on the crosshairs, which even now were closing into the centre of his screen. They turned gold, a bleeping sound increase in tone and pulse, becoming constant as the circle flashed green. With an almost savage glee, Kallum punched the button, a series of lights to his right flashing briefly in concert.

“Got yer!” crowed Karson, as a synthetic voice chimed in, “Missiles locked on target, impact in ten, nine, eight .....”

Chapter Three

The storm gradually blew itself out, whatever destruction it left behind was little compared to that meted out by Lepus. Not only had Karson followed his Lord’s command to the letter, he had actually enjoyed himself whilst doing so. Where once there had been a small, pathetic, yet still functioning village, there now was little left but blasted earth.

There was no need to land their craft and search for any survivors, when Karson wiped something from the face of the earth, he took pride and pleasure in his work and ensured that not even the most minute of traces remained.

*

“So, what now?” asked Kalum, unselfconsciously stuffing his face with food. His manners had never been gently refined via the loving touch of his parents, and as such he seemed more wild beast than young boy.

“I think we need to get you off this planet, as quickly as possible,” said the big Tauran, merely toying with his food, Kalum’s antics having robbed him of his hunger.

“Leave? Why?” asked Kalum, both showing the masticated contents of his mouth, and liberally spraying crumbs onto the table in front of him.

“The reason?” Hyas replied, “I would have thought that obvious, son. Lepus is still out there and he will scour this land in his search for you. We need to get you somewhere safe, and quickly.”

“But I live here!” Kalum whined , his fear of the unknown evident.

“Not any more,” retorted Hyas, his manner now gravely serious, “by showing his hand, Lepus has taken that option away from you.”

“My things,” mumbled Kalum, his food temporarily forgotten, “I need to get my things.”

“Very well, we will get your precious belongings,” Hyas agreed, rising from the table, “but once we have done so, we leave.”

*

“Isn’t it about time you came clean?” asked Karson, watching Lepus as he scurried around the control room.

“How many times do we have to go over this?” Lepus said in a time-worn voice.

“Even after all these years, with me doing your bidding, do you still have no confidence in me?” queried Karson petulantly.

It was a game they seemed to play after every dirty deed carried out by the brutish man. Lepus had been waiting for the question. He was ready with his standard responses and knew that soon enough that Karson would give in.

“Very well,” he said, “let’s play your little game, but in order for things to go quickly, I’m going to answer everything all at once.”

Karson’s brow furrowed, he was not one hundred per cent sure that Lepus really intended to insult his intelligence. Ninety nine per cent was not enough for him to release his rage and smash the smirk deep into the horrible little man’s face, but he was getting closer.

“We are looking for one of my family heirlooms, one that my brother stole. No, you don’t need to know exactly what it is. Yes, with it in my possession I can once and for all prove my claim as heir to the House. Hyas is working for other interested parties and yes, you will be richly rewarded when all of this is over. Does that about take care of everything?”

It took a huge effort for Karson’s hand to remain calmly by his side and not instead to draw the pistol holstered at his belt. The answers as usual were unsatisfying, but Karson had done too much in Lepus’ name, to be able to reinsert himself into normal society. In fact, the only way he could have the wealth and position he craved and felt he deserved, was to go through with Lepus’ plan.

He knew that there was much more to this than Lepus would ever explain and once again he realised that he had no other choice, but to accept his predicament.

With a disgruntled snort, he turned away, so that he missed the calculating glance Lepus shot at him. When this is done, thought Lepus, then Karson will be just so much excess baggage. It would have to be done carefully, but Karson was one problem that would just have to go away.

*

“It’s just over this hill,” said Kalum excitedly, “look you can see the smoke rising from the chimneys of the village.”

“Wait,” cautioned Hyas, restraining Kalum with a firm hand, “something’s not right!”

Kalum shook off his hand and started a shambling run up the hill, Hyas quickly catching him and pulling him back.

“I said wait, boy!” he snapped, Kalum cowering away as if expecting to be beaten, then, calming himself Hyas continued more softly, “That’s not wood smoke Kalum, trust me.”

After a long and cautious crawl, they finally reached the top of the incline and looked down on what remained of Kalum’s village. Where before there had been houses, livestock, at least some kind of industrious activity, now there was nothing, literally.

The ground was scorched, no tree nor blade of grass remained. Charred wooden fingers poked timidly skyward, smoke rising sullenly. Here and there stone had remained for resilient and vague outlines of buildings could still be seen. Whatever had happened here, it had been cataclysmic.

“No lightning strike did this,” gasped Kalum as he stumbled forward, “my mother, her friends, the village, all gone!”

“Lepus!” was all that Hyas said, the word spat angrily from between his teeth.

“Why?” asked Kalum, staring awe struck at the decimation before him.

“He was looking for you,” replied Hyas, watching the boy for any reaction.

“M-m-me?” stammered Kalum, the fact that anyone would do this just to get rid of a deformed village boy incomprehensible to him.

“Yes, you,” stated Hyas, “now do you see why we have to get out of here?”

“Yes and no”, answered Kalum, staring wildly about, “I know we have to leave, but I don’t understand any of the rest of it.”

“All will be explained in due time,” said Hyas, taking the boy’s arm and beginning to lead him back to the safety of the underbrush, “but right now, we need to move.”

It was then the Tauran heard the sound he had been dreading, that of the type of vessel no-one on this world could own.

“Run!” he roared, shoving Kalum towards the safety of the tree line and drawing his axe.

*

“There’s the whelp!” snarled Karson, aiming his flyer directly for the village and the defiant Tauran.

He pushed one of his men out of the way and grabbed the controls, this time he would make certain of them, personally. Aiming the craft’s weapons directly at Hyas he fired, the twin beams of energy striking the huge man unerringly. Hyas’ arm was burnt away by the raw power of the first strike, the second glancing across his hip as he fell. His axe span harmlessly away and he lay there, bleeding.

Kalum ran back towards him, trying to turn the big Tauran over, but his weight made it impossible. Helplessly he watched as Hyas’ blood pooled all around him, soaking Kalum’s rude clothing as he desperately tried to staunch it.

Footsteps crunched nearby and Kalum raised his tear-stained face to look into the eyes of a murderer.

“There’s no point in crying over him,” growled Karson, drawing his pistol and aiming at Kalum, “not when you’ll shortly be joining him down there on the ground.”

Something came over Kalum and he stood over Hyas’ body, defiantly defending his only friend.

“I won’t let you!” he squeaked, his voice betraying his fear.

Karson flung his head back and roared with laughter, “You … won’t… let… me?” he gasped, “Now that’s a good one.”

“But,” he said, his voice turning businesslike and deadly serious “enough of the humour, it’s time to die boy. Now just hand it over and I can be on my way.”

“Hand what over?” asked Kalum, now completely confused.

“Don’t play games with me!” barked Karson, “The family heirloom, the thing that your Uncle Lepus wants!”

“My uncle?” he had thought his family dead with the destruction of the village, but now he found out that he had an uncle, and not only that, but one that wanted him killed.

“Yes, yes,” spat Karson, “no time for family reunions, just give me whatever it was that your father wanted you to look after for him.”

Comprehension dawned on Kalum’s face and involuntarily his hand strayed to the front of his tunic and the belt, still hidden by his ragged cloak.

“Steady, boy!” warned Karson threateningly.

“It’s just his belt,” Kalum said perplexedly, “why would anyone want it?”

“Show it to me!” commanded Karson, leaning closer, a strange look on his face.

Carefully Kalum peeled the cloth away from his battered belt, the one his father had left with him, to give back on his return. The one with the strangely indented buckle, the leather around it all scuffed and worn.

As it came into view, he heard a sharp intake of breath and then two vicious cracks from a pistol. He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting to feel the impact of the rounds in his body, but nothing happened. At last, he found the courage to open his eyes and what he saw there before him, shocked him to his very bones. Both of Karson’s companions lay sprawled in undignified death and the vicious killer knelt on one knee in front of Kalum, his head bowed.

After a brief pause, he looked directly into Kalum’s eyes, tears streaming down his face, and said in total reverence, “My Lord!”

*

Karson had wanted to leave Hyas where he was, but Kalum had insisted, revelling in his new found power. Between them they had ripped clothing from the dead bodies and used it to bind the Tauran’s wounds. Together they had half carried, half dragged Hyas back to Karson’s flyer, the groans from the injured man at least testifying that his grasp on life had still not been totally released. There was no doubting though that Hyas was close to death and needed medical attention urgently.

It was impossible to take them back to Lepus’ vessel and that meant they had to find the Tauran’s craft. Mercilessly, Karson had roused the half-dead Hyas and managed to convince him to release the location of his ship. At first Hyas had steadfastly refused, but then Karson had shown him something and the Tauran had relented. No matter how hard he tried, Kalum could not see past the hunched form of Karson to see what it was, but miraculously it had worked. Even now, they were speeding towards the Tauran’s vessel, skimming dangerously close to the surrounding treetops and hugging the contours of the land where they could.

Apart from explaining the urgency of their flight, Karson would say no more. He believed that they had a slight window of opportunity, whilst Lepus still thought him loyal, in which to affect their escape. He had irritatedly snapped at Kalum, before apologising in a gentler fashion and asking that he be allowed to do his job.

Kalum now sat in one of the chairs in the cabin of the flyer, gazing back at Hyas’ body slumped in and strapped to another of the seats. It had been a strange day and things promised to get even stranger still.

*
Lepus knew that he had been betrayed, yet even now could hardly believe it, certainly not of the cold-blooded and hate-filled man who had stood by his side. He had never questioned the sketchy and ill-detailed history of the man who had become Karson, having rescued him from death in one of the Church’s jumped-up heresy trials.

A grateful brute had religiously followed each and every one of Lepus’ orders, in fact had seemed to relish taking the spiteful noble’s whims just that little bit further. So what had happened, how had the worthless boy got through to the murderous animal? Had he answered some deep protective streak within the man? Not possible, the only way that Karson could have or even would have changed his allegiance was for money or power. That was it! He had seen the ragged cloth, its mangled holes and the ill-shaped thing that was his brother’s boy and had put two and two together. Even now he would be plotting the ransom, either directly from Lepus or a Church determined to protect herself.

Satisfied that he had worked out the ex-monster’s motivation, Lepus called for his new second-in-command, giving orders for his craft to take up a stationary position, just off-planet. Whatever happened, Karson would have to try and get past him, and when he did Lepus would pay him exactly what he deserved.

Chapter Two

The storm lashed heavily against the shuttered panes; rain tattooing madly, wind howling angrily as it unsuccessfully tried to rip its way inside, and the villagers huddled shamefacedly in front of the central fire. One of their own was outside, ridiculed into braving the maelstrom of wind and water.

None had pleaded with him to stay and truthfully none would miss him, yet they were not heartless people and their actions had been brutal and surprisingly out of character. Kalum, the malformed son of the dead gravedigger received no love from his fellow humans. Even his mother, now remarried, avoided him when she could, a servant bringing the poor youth food and clothing on an irregular basis. His own mother carried the shame of his birth and the obvious evidence of the gods’ disfavour. She sat, pinch-faced, wrapped in her cloak next to her new husband, slightly apart from the others.

A frightened silence gripped them. They neither prayed nor cursed, stoically waiting for whatever the storm would ultimately bring.

*

The boy did not run, he rather hopped and shuffled, his misshapen right leg and foot, his bowed back and oversized head, were not conducive to speed. On such a night, when speed was of the essence, he felt himself handicapped even more. Lightning bolts flashed to the earth, searing the ground in their actinic fury. Horizontal rain stung the boy’s face and arms, even though he kept his thin cloak wrapped as tightly around his body as he could, the wind driving the water through each and every tiny gap.

Pealing thunder rolled menacingly and the storm intensified, as though the gods themselves were angry. This Kalum could understand. It had been beaten into him since he was a small child. Crops failed, milk curdled, animals were still-born and all of this was laid at his door. Deep down inside he accepted it; had not his own mother cursed the day he was born, wishing she had never laid eyes on his father?

Kalum was glad his parents had met, even if his mother’s love had turned to vile curses and hatred. He had at least some remembrances of his father, of his love, and he clung onto them with all his might. Doggedly he toiled onwards, the cemetery coming ever closer, with each painful and hard earned step. It was the one place that he had shelter and solace, among the remnants of both his and his father’s life.

An explosive concussion threw him to the ground, and he rolled over and over, down a slight incline until he was brought to an abrupt stop by the bole of a spindly tree. Looking back, he saw the ground on fire, heaving and boiling from the titanic strike. This was the mother of all storms and he had somehow walked into hell itself.

Another bolt screamed downwards, driving the breath from his lungs with its overwhelming pressure wave. Again the earth complained and molten fire arced upwards in angry response. This was unreal, never had he seen so many lightning strikes so close together, and the colour, not the usual blue-white but a bright orange-red. Climbing to his feet and shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears, he started off once more, leaning into the wind as he fought his way forward.

Suddenly, Kalum was knocked to the ground by a running figure and a third bolt flew close overhead, tearing into a standing rock and smashing it into tiny pieces. His vision blurred, Kalum strained to see his rescuer, the rain running in rivulets down his face. A flash lit up the sky and he saw him; reflexively he tried to scream, but a huge hand was clamped over his mouth and the boy sank gratefully into unconsciousness.

*

Hyas gazed down on the crumpled form beneath him in wonder, could this really be him? The boy’s cape rolled open as Kalum stirred and Hyas gasped in astonishment, the belt! It lay there before him. His search for the scion of the House of Urion was over.

He roared in pain as the needle round struck him, blood spraying outwards. With a snarl he turned, reaching over his shoulder to draw his axe, but his enemies were hidden by the storm. Weapon held firmly in one hand, he grasped the back of Kalum’s cape and dragged him away, bent double in order to minimise his enemies’ target.

Twigs slapped against his face, as he turned away from the lashing of the rain, his long curly hair plastered against his forehead. Another flechette round struck a nearby tree, sending shards of bark spraying in all directions. This would not work, he needed to see them if he was to negate their threat.

Leaving Kalum propped against the bole of a nearby tree, he hunched down and waited, his axe gripped firmly in two huge hands.

*

“Did you get him,” Lepus whispered to Karson, as he peered into the storm-tossed night.

“Yes, but not fatally,” replied Karson, his fingers tapping restlessly against his rifle stock. “He can’t have gone far, though.”

The big man waved peremptorily at his men and a group of them moved away in an attempt at flanking the Tauran.

*


Kalum slowly regained consciousness, his eyes blurry not only from his befuddled state but also from the torrential rain still pouring down. He wiped a grimy hand across his face and stared at the bulky shape of the man crouched next to him.

Lightning flashed, highlighting his saviour and Kalum gasped in shock, the noise causing the man to turn and gaze down at him.

“W-w-who are you?” asked the boy, scrabbling backwards away from the frightening apparition.

The man laughed in a deep bass rumble and then smiled. If this was meant to calm the boy, it didn’t work. His chest bare; the man’s huge muscles rippled as he moved, flicking sodden and curly hair away from his face. Droplets scattered every which way as he shook his head; the pair of curved horns jutting from his brow, showering the boy with the displaced water.

“My name is Hyas,” he said, bowing slightly, “I am a Tauran, as you can see.”

Blinking slightly in perplexity, Kalum said nothing, waiting for any sign of this Hyas’ intent, for good or ill.

“Don’t worry,” Hyas grinned, “I won’t eat you!”

The boy’s widening eyes told Hyas that Kalum had only just considered that possibility, and he laughed again.

“I’ve been looking for you for a while now, following Lepus on his search. Thankfully I got here in time, at least to avoid them turning you into some sort of burnt offering.”

“W-w-what …?” gasped Kalum, completely bemused.

“Don’t talk,” said Hyas concernedly, “you’ve had quite a bit of a shock, and we need to get you out of this, before Lepus and his cronies catch up with us.”

He raised his hand, as Kalum began to speak and looked quickly out into the darkness.

“Time to move, boy”, he said, his great axe now visible in his right hand, “we can talk later.”

Not really understanding why, Kalum followed, the strange looking man radiated confidence and he at least seemed concerned about the deformed creature that was Kalum. It was the first example of genuine interest that anyone had showed, since the death of his father.

Then, distorted by the wind and rain, he heard voices and scurried to catch up with Hyas.

*

“We’ll never find them in this,” whined Lepus, clutching his drenched cloak more tightly about himself, “Let’s get back to the ship and wait out this storm. They can’t go anywhere either and if Hyas does take off, we’ll quickly spot him.”

“But my Lord, “protested Karson, “we’re close, I can almost taste him!”

“Almost, ALMOST!” shouted Lepus, “Well that just isn’t good enough. Now, back to the ship, that’s an order!”

Karson followed Lepus, grumbling under his breath all the while, whilst from the shadows Hyas watched, his hand gripping tightly onto the axe’s shaft. They had been very close, too close for comfort. He needed to get the boy safely onto his ship, and then they could work out what to do next.

“Oh, and Karson?” mentioned Lepus, almost in passing as they slogged their way through the now muddy ground.

“Yes, My Lord?” responded Karson, still muttering as he toiled along behind his Master.

“There is one more thing we should do tonight. The kind of job you like, and one that will cheer you up no end.”

“My Lord?” queried Karson, puzzled at the change in Lepus’ manner.

“Once on board,” said Lepus, his voice hardening, “I want you to personally take charge of the destruction of the boy’s pathetic village. There is to be no trace left of my brother, anywhere on this planet. The whelp we will deal with later.”

“Yes, My Lord!” grinned Karson, in an almost cheerful manner, “Anything you say!”

*

At last, Hyas and Kalum reached the Tauran’s ship, the big man activating the entry code and almost pushing the boy on board, his eyes wide as saucers as he saw the myriad of flashing lights and inexplicable machines.

“As I said,” commented Hyas, “There’ll be time enough for explanations later. Let’s get dried off and I’ll sort us out some warm food and drink. I get the feeling we’ll have some time to kill.”

Kalum winced at Hyas’ choice of words, but he was really only too glad to get out of the storm. The only thought in his head now was of the warm food and drink. As with most young people, he lived in the now and thought little of the consequences of his actions, and certainly not how they might affect other people. In this instance, he could not have known; the evil machinations of someone like Lepus were well beyond his simple comprehension.

*

“Ready, my Lord,” smirked Karson, his fingers hovering over the control panel in front of him.

“Just get on with it,” sighed Lepus already bored with the idea, “then we can continue our search for the brat, with at least one loose end tied up.”

Karson viciously slammed his hand down on the panel, the energy beams already locked on their targets. Once more the night sky was rent by the lashing force of strikes, the power of lightning, in this case, harnessed by man.

*

None of the villagers had changed position. Grouped tightly around the fire, they sat in a less than companionable silence. Kalum’s mother’s lips were set in a tight disapproving line. She could not understand why she had to belittle herself here with the rest of them. Her thoughts briefly turned to Kalum, who she also blamed for this, as she did everything. True to her nature, the last thought that ever crossed her mind was a cruel and spiteful one.